Against The Fold
by Raven55
Summary: Scorchmarks ran across his chest and blood was oozing from a deep gash on his temple. Who could have deserved to be treated like this? Who would have gotten himself in this much trouble? A gasp escaped her lips when she recognised those pale blue eyes.
1. Prologue: The Failure

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. This is just a figment of my imagination

**Against the Fold**

* * *

**Prologue: The Failure**

"Let's get our wands out. Now."

"Goyle, stop fidgetting. No one's going to jump out of any bushes but us. So stop it and focus because if we mess up we won't be likely to get a second chance."

"Relax a little, will you Blaise? It's not all that black and white. _I_ got a second chance, remember, so it won't be over if it doesn't all go your way."

Blaise breathed through his nose angrily, not even trying to hide his disdain. "Yes we all know about your miraculous talents for weaseling yourself out of sticky situations. Too bad you don't have a lot of talent for anything else. And too bad we're not all as lucky as you when it comes to name and fortune."

"Yeah Draco, we'd all feel a lot more at ease if you didn't act so casual. For us, there are a lot of things riding on our succes."

"You heard Nott. Stop being so damned coy. We don't all have your leverage."

"Fine," Draco huffed. "Just don't expect Him to inaugurate you the second you get back."

"No, again we're not as lucky as you. How you were Marked before you even started remains a mystery to us all," he hissed. "So get your wands out, like Goyle said. We've only got the one shot to get this family of Muggle-lovers. So, like we discussed, I want Nott by my side. Malfoy, you and Goyle go round the back and I want Crabbe on the look-out."

Blaise turned around and peered over the top of the high garden fence.

"Look at them. Sitting around peacefully, not knowing we're about to pay them a visit. Everyone ready?"

"Let's go."

Draco nudged Goyle forward.

"Come on," he whispered. "You take the back door and I'll do the window."

"And the Mark?"

"I'll do that too."

"Well, just mind your timing," Goyle remarked. "You know Blaise, Nott and I need to be inside before they can raise a shield against us. If they're alarmed-"

"I can handle it," Draco hissed.

"...Whatever. Just don't mess up."

When Goyle had turned around, Draco grimaced. He'd had it with everyone treating him like a huge failure. So he hadn't managed to kill Dumbledore. He had already been punished for that. He'd show them that he was the one with the most experience. They'd pay him more respect once they would realise he was the best man on their team.

He blinked when he finally raised his head above the windowsill to look inside. The brightness of the room blinded him temporarily. With his hands stretched out he tried to make his way back to the fence through the darkness of the night.

Suddenly the ground seemed to slip away beneath him as he stepped on something, later he assumed some form of Muggle toy, that rolled away. A cry escaped his mouth that mingled with the sqeaking toy as he fell down, piercing the utter silence of the night.

As he hit the ground, his wand was knocked out of his hand, sending a stream of red light through the window, shattering the glass. Almost instantly Draco saw Goyle's body be thrown back to the fence as a shield brusquely blocked his entrance to the house. A series of hexes rebounded on the building, followed by screams and cries.

Still on the ground, Draco could hear his teammates swear. He tried to feel around for his wand, but he knew it was out of his reach. The screams had died down now.

"Fuck..." he whispered.

He had really messed up this time. Suddenly the moonlight on his face was blocked out as several shadows encircled him.

"Yes, Draco. Fuck," Blaise hisssed seethingly. "You really- You- Stupefy!"

"Nice work, Blaise."

"_Don't_ talk to me right now. Any of you. We're taking him back and we'll make _sure_ that He knows exactly who's fault this was, got it?"

'Fuck...'

* * *


	2. 1: A Chance Encounter

(**AN**: I started writing this story during the summer of 2006 and now, finally, in march 2009 I can start posting. My friends will understand what a relief it is to be able to do so at last, especially Lucerito-del-alma, who's heard me nagging about this story ever since the beginning. She's been a wonderful help in getting past those hurdles called writer's block and that ought to be acknowledged. I also owe my other friend Rianne a lot of thanks for beta-reading this story.)

* * *

**Chapter one: A Chance Encounter**

"Can I open my eyes?"

"Not yet...just a few more steps."

"Ron, I can't see where I'm going!" she giggled.

"That would be the point of being blindfolded," he chuckled. "Just one more big step...Alright, you can take it off."

She raised her hands behind her head and untied the piece of fabric. Ron watched her face as she opened her eyes. A small gasp escaped her lips as her mouth opened wide.

"Ronald...this is..." she turned around and kissed him pationately. "You shouldn't have, I- I'm speechless."

"Just say you like it," he said with a smile.

He bent forward to pick up the necklace from the kitchen table and clasped it around her neck. She touched the gems tenderly. For weeks she had walked past the jeweler's, admiring the beauty of it every single day. She had never been more surprised to see Ron give her a gift than now.

"Ron, you know I love it," she said breathlessly. "Thank you so much."

She kissed him again, tenderly this time.

"Anything for the woman I love," he breathed huskily, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

She looked at him questioningly.

"What are you laughing about? You don't think this is a laugh, do you?" she said, waving her right hand in front of his face. With a sly grin, he grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him.

"No, Hermione, I don't think this is a laugh. I've never been more serious about me and you. I love you and you know that. And I'm never going to let you go. Especially not since I paid for that ring of yours," he said before kissing her quickly. "I can't afford not to marry you after that."

She smacked his head playfully.

"I _was_ hoping you were marrying me out of love," she grinned.

"Just promise me you'll wear that necklace when we say 'I do.' Because it looks like it was made simply for that moment."

She placed her hands in his neck. "I promise," she said softly.

She was about to lean in for another kiss when someone made a retching sound from the door opening.

"Don't you know it's concidered impolite to ignore your family," Ginny said, a mock-offended look on her face. "You can keep that snogging up when you're married. But till that day comes, this little sister is going to claim some attention as well."

"Don't worry Ginny. I need to go anyway. Duty calls at St. Mungo's," Hermione said soothingly.

She hugged Ginny and then pecked Ron's cheek.

"I'll be home late, I think. You don't need to wait up. This is the graveyard shift." she unclasped her necklace and placed it back in the box on the kitchen table.

She slipped on her cloak and grabbed her wand, disapparating with a soft 'crack'. Ginny eyed the necklace in the box.

"This must really be the real deal," she observed, quietly stunned by the expensive look of the piece of jewellery. "You and Hermione, I mean. Who would've thought. Mum was so thrilled when you told her the news that she needed a big splash of water in her face before she broke free of her trance."

Ron grinned and closed the box. "Took us a while, didn't it? But it feels so good to be with her. Even though we still argue a lot like we used to do. You know what, perhaps it feels good _because_ we still argue the way we used to. It felt like it did in school."

Ginny smiled. "Never thought you'd be the one to long for the good old days. Not that it's actually been that long since the good old days. I always thought you'd wait a few more years after graduation before tying the knot."

"I guess we were tired of waiting," he said absentmindedly as he searched on a high shelf for a place he could put the jewellery-box.

She leaned against the table and looked at the ceiling. "I've got some bad news to tell you. Percy...isn't coming to your wedding. He wrote mum this morning to prepare her. Didn't want her to find out that day. Thought he was being conciderate."

"And he had to tell her _now_?" Ron sighed. "We've got I don't know how many months to go and he needs to plummit mum down into another depression _already_? He must know by now how sad his letters make her feel."

"Someone ought to teach him a lesson," Ginny agreed. "Anyway, mum asked me to come fetch you for dinner. Ordered me to come all the way here to ask you to come back to the Burrow. Like owls don't exist anymore."

"Tell her I'll be right there. I'm just going to put this necklace away. I really don't want to lose this."

* * *

"I can't believe he's gone. You can't tell me he's disappeared! We need to find him and get him back. We can't risk him telling anyone."

"Don't worry. He won't be able to tell anyone anything. That spell made sure of that."

"But Blaise..._He'll_ find a way to make this our fault. Did you see what he did to Bellatrix?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen. He must've been stronger than any of us could have expected. It'll be our hides next if we don't get him back. So we _will_ find him again. I'll think of something."

"You'd better, Blaise. Or it'll really be our hides."

* * *

"Granger! We've got a poisoned drunk in three!"

Hermione snapped around and followed her supervisor quickly. "What happened?"

"Some half-wit sold him a vat of strange mead. I'm not sure how old it was, but at least it was way past its sell-by date."

Hermione grinned a little, but straightened her face before entering the room.

"Sir..." she muttered surprised and a little horrified. "He's...._green_!"

Her supervisor grinned. "You should have seen him when he came in. He was purple then."

"...Streeler poison?" she asked confused. "But that snail's native to African countries, not Britain."

"Some people keep them as pets. Love the colours, they do. Too bad this critter can kill you...Must've crawled through the barrel before anyone poured the mead into it."

Hermione peered at the drunk with a curious face. "I've never seen something like this before...Unless you count the time Fred and George managed to put Rainbow Drops into their sister's birthday cake."

She grinned.

Her supervisor smiled. "Your brothers-in-law, correct?"

"Almost," she admitted with a blush. "We're still doing a lot of planning for the wedding. Never knew there was so much to do before you can get married."

"Well, let's get our hands dirty. This guy's just dying for some treatement."

Hermione rolled her eyes when he couldn't see. She liked him and was glad that she was his intern, but sometimes his jokes were just a little too inapropriate.

She reached for her wand and peered over the Healer's shoulder.

"Look close, Hermione. One of the best ways to cure Streeler poisoning is to use a more native spell. I picked it up during my stay in South Africa. It's a medicinal chant."

Just when he was starting to hum, a very stressed medi-witch popped her head around the corner.

"Healer Samuels! We've got a patient with severe head-trauma and something that looks like whip lashes on his back. He's out cold."

The Healer looked up from his other patient. "D'you need me now?"

"We need _someone_."

Samuels looked at Hermione quickly. "Can you take over here?"

She shook her head fiercely. "I've never handled this kind of poisoning before!"

"Damn, very well. Hermione, you take the new one. I'll come and join you as soon as I can. I trust you know how to handle that?"

She nodded, though her whole body trembled. This would be the first time she was allowed to see to a patient without supervision. She grabbed her wand from the inner pocket of her lime-green robes and followed the other witch.

"Where is he?"

"In here, we've already started bandaging his head."

Hermione rushed in and examined the body on the bed, ignoring the bustling of medi-witches at the top end who had put a sterile cloth over his face. The man's body had been injured badly, it looked almost as if someone had been drawing something on him with the tip of a hot knife. Scorchmarks in very precise lines ran in strange paterns over his chest.

"What on earth..." she muttered quietly.

She shook her head and stared at his wrists. There were knifemarks there too, but different from those you'd see with a suicide attempt. Her eyes traveled up his arms and she started at the skull tatoo on his left arm. Her eyes narrowed, feeling a strong urge to abandon this man right there. But, she reasoned as she looked at his wristwounds, he needed help. And grudgingly she admitted that she was the one who needed to give that help.

At least those wrist injuries were something she knew how to heal. She raised her wand and concentrated on the wounds, praying that Healer Samuels would join her soon.

After she was done with the wrists, she stared at him for a moment. Those chestwounds could easily have some symbolic meaning for all she knew. Perhaps there was still some powerful curse on him. Those cuts vaguely reminded her of mr Weasely's snake bite.

She pushed the medi-witches out of the way and looked at the messy bandages. They had been ill aplied and it was obvious they weren't doing the patient any good. Slowly she began to unwind it again. Small tuffts of blond hair peeked out with every inch she unraveled. Blood was oozing from a deep gash on his temple.

She conjured a wet clean cloth and started to clean the area around it. The blood started to cake in his hair and the ironlaced smell was so strong she had to close her nose. Finally she had a clear view of the wound and conjured up some stitches.

The bleeding slowed to a halt now that the gash had been closed up and Hermione stepped away from the bed to clean her hands and put on a new set of lime-green robes.

"Please bandage that head again," she whispered, looking at his chest again.

She stared at the odd markings for a minute, hoping they would ring a bell in the back of her mind. She waited for the medi-witches to finish bandaging the man up again and then, curious to see at last who it was, she moved towards the bed. Who could have deserved to be treated like this? Who would have gotten himself in this much trouble?

His face was turned away from her, but she turned it towards her slowly and removed the cloth with the sudden sense of urgency. A tiny gasp escaped her lips when she recognised those pale blue eyes.

"...What happened to you..." she whispered horrified. "What have you done..."

She stepped away from the bed and backed out of the room. Never had she expected to see this man mutilated the way she had seen now. Never had she expected to see Draco Malfoy scarred and in need of her help.

She bumped into Samuels but pretended not to recognise him and hurried towards the elevator. When the doors closed, she allowed herself to sink to the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes.

Draco Malfoy...

She had definitely not been prepared to see him. How could this have happened? And why? Those marks were clearly done by some dark magic, but what kind of Death Eater would use that on one of his own like this?

She had saved his life today, she suddenly realised. She had saved the son of a convicted Death Eater, a boy who had made her life hell for years.

"But you were only doing your job," she told herself. "You didn't know it was him."

But then another question rose inside her. Would she have acted differently if she had known it was him? She could have let him bleed to death, but _would _she have?

The elevator slowed to a halt and she climbed to her feet. She needed to get home and talk to Ron. As soon as the doors opened she flew through them, shouting an excuse at the receptionist.


	3. 2: Itch

**Chapter two: Itch**

"We need to ask you a favour."

"Don't. You know I hate doing favours."

"This is a favour you're going to want to do. Trust me."

"That important, is it?"

"You need to find him. You know who I mean. You always wanted to get involved, now's your chance."

"...Fine."

"Good. Thanks, darling."

"Yeah, love you too," she sneered.

* * *

He opened his eyes. He found himself in a white room with white walls and a white floor. The bed he was in was made of iron and, surprisingly, it had white sheets. He tried sitting up but found out it wasn't a very good idea. His head started to spin so he raised his hand up to rest it on. He was surprised again when he realised his head was bandaged.

'Where am I?' he thought slowly.

He hoisted his legs over the edge of the bed and let his feet touch the cold stone floor. He could hear some vague noises outside the door.

"Now let's see..." he said to himself.

He leaned his entire weight on his feet and stood up slowly, pulling himself up by a bedpole. He listened to the voices outside, which were a lot clearer now.

"I can't do it, sir..."

"Just get in there. It's not like something like this is never going to happen again. If you continue to work in this profession, it's only normal that you'll run into some people you know, whether it's the milkman or your best friend."

"But I always thought we weren't allowed to treat people we know. That it would mean too much conflict of interest."

"That's Law Enforcement, love. Not medicine. Now just get in there."

He backed away from the door and climbed back into his bed. Looking at the bandages around his wrists, he wondered what the hell had happened to him. When the door opened, he stared at the ceiling fixedly.

"Good morning." said a female voice.

He just couldn't help noticing a small hint of a hesitant tone. The woman bit her lip and kept her eyes on the ground. Slowly he turned his head aside to look at her. She was rather pretty, with brown curly hair that reached her shoulders. She looked back at him, almost as if she expected him to say something.

He stared back at her curiously, with a hint of vague annoyance. "What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I just thought- I mean, I didn't expect-"

"Expect what? This is a hospital, right? Don't you tend to get injured people here?"

"Well, yes," she said. "I just never thought I'd see _you_ in here."

His annoyed look vanished.

"What do you mean?" he said.

She frowned. "What do _you_ mean?"

"Look, do you know me or something? Because you're starting to annoy me with this stupid talking of yours."

The woman said nothing, though she kept staring at him with a confused look in her eyes. Her pensiveness indicated she was asking herself a lot of questions concerning him, but she voiced none of them. Suddenly she turned around and walked towards the window. As if looking for something to do, she opened it. Then, at once, apparently realising it was still mid-winter, she closed it again with a bang and turned around again.

"If you think you can have a good laugh at my expense then you're wrong," she said confidently.

He rolled his eyes. "Listen lady. I have never seen you before. All I want is some- Hey!"

Before he had had the chance to finish his sentence she had turned around and fled the room. He watched her bump into someone in a set of lime-green robes, matching her own.

"Granger?" the man asked confused.

"Healer Samuels!" she squealed.

"What are you-"

"Sorry, sir! No time, I've got to-"

The last half of her sentence was lost as she bolted down the corridor. The man who was apparently called Samuels looked straight at him and shook his head. He looked back stubbornly. But when the Healer walked on, he leaned on his elbows and looked at the ceiling once more.

'Granger, huh?' he thought slowly.

Didn't that name ring a bell? Perhaps...All he could say now was that she was intimidated by his presence.

'Handsome as I must be, I'm probably a heart-breaker.' he thought with a satisfied smile.

* * *

Hermione paced around the changing room. What was he playing at? Was he pulling her leg? Or was he just amusing himself by pretending not to know her? This was definitely some set-up to mess with her mind, she was certain of that. Well, she'd just get back at him.

'But why, though?' she thought worriedly. 'Why would a Death Eater spend his time on a joke? And why would he have mutilated his body just to trick me?'

It didn't make sense. To be perfectly honest, he had looked so lonely. Lost, even. She was going to have to find out what he was trying to do. She flexed her fingers and then curled her hands into fists with a determined face. She was Hermione Granger and she could take care of herself. She straightened her robes and headed back with a determined look.

"So!" she said loudly when she strode into his room.

"So!" he echoed, looking back at her as though he was thouroughly enjoying annoying her.

'That does seem like the Malfoy I remember,' she thought bitterly.

"Came back so soon?" he asked with a smirk. "I knew you would. You just couldn't resist."

She placed her hands on her hips. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you annoyed me enough when we were at school. There's no need to make up for lost time."

He sighed again. "I told you earlier, I've never seen you before!"

"Really? Because I remember you hexing my teeth, I remember you calling me a Mudblood over and over, I remember nearly breaking your jaw and I _vividly_ remember you being turned into a ferret by a teacher. Funny how I can remember all that without having seen you before," she sneered.

She had hoped to see a twitch or a glare at the mention of the ferret-incident, but his face didn't change. He merely looked bored.

"For all I know you're making this up. And, frankly, I'm really not that interested."

She gritted her teeth.

"So you _don't_ remember anything?" she asked haughtily. "Not even your name?"

"A Malfoy doesn't forget his name," he answered coolly.

"So you do remember something! I _knew_ you were just having me on! Forget it, I'm leaving."

"Hey Granger!" he yelled as she wanted to storm off again. "It doesn't mean anything if I just remember a name, right?"

"Sure, whatever. And I suppose you heard mine from a passer-by. _Goodbye_ Malfoy."

"...I read my chart," he said slowly. "...I don't remember what happened to me, but I came here in a pretty bad shape, didn't I. I don't know what I've done in the past to piss you off...but thank you for helping me."

For a split second she allowed a smile to wash over her face. But when she realised, she stepped out the door and disappeared around the corner. The door closed with a bang behind her, leaving him behind in a deafening silence.

He grinned, not quite sure why, and slipped off the bed again. This time he wadled through the room as best he could.

There were no 'get well soon' cards, no flowers or any other token that bore message like that.

"Doesn't anyone miss me?" he said loudly, feeling hugely disappointed and surprised.

But then again, he had to admit that he couldn't remember anyone who ought to be missing him. He walked over to the window and stared at the snow outside. A few kids were on the ground below, playing and laughing. Annoyed, he turned away again. This time he stared at the bottom end of his bed.

There hung his chart and curious to find out more about what was going on he reached for it and lifted it of its hook. Flipping through it casually, browsing for something he might have overlooked before, he sauntered over to the mirror next to his bed and looked at himself.

As he had discovered before, he had a big bandage around his head, and one around both his wrists and even one that covered his entire lower left arm. Other than that, he cleaned up pretty nice, in his own opinion. The hospital shirt didn't flatter him, though.

Turning his attention to the chart again, he flipped back to the first page.

'Malfoy, Draco.' he read. So now he also knew his first name. He skimmed through the pages, but they were tactfully covered with medical terms he didn't understand. The last page was something that caught his eye. There was a small drawing in the top right corner made up of a lot of strange lines and circles. It looked somewhat mystical...and also vaguely familiar.

But why it was in his chart, and what it had to do with him, he didn't know. He looked at himself in the mirror again, scratching at the bandage around his left arm. Something underneath it seemed to be itching. But the bandage had been bound so tight that he couldn't get it loose.

He went back to his bed, placed the chart back on its peg and lied down, having nothing else to do but stare at the ceiling in boredom.

* * *

He placed an arm around her waist as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Why are you so tense?"

"Oh..." she said slowly, "I don't know really. It's been so long since we last saw him."

"Yeah..." Ron grinned, "for you, at least."

She smiled. "I almost forgot you see him everyday...You never really mention him."

"Because Ginny does that enough already. Now come on, they're not going to bite you. If he cherished an inclination to do that, he would have done it back at school."

He knocked on the door in front of them. Ginny opened it and she greeted them warmly.

"Come on in, the salmon is almost done."

Hermione kissed her cheek and sidled into the hallway to put away her cloak. Ron followed, after having hugged his sister.

"Ron! Hermione!"

Hermione turned around. "...Harry! You look...different," she said with a shy giggle.

His face resembled that of Moody now more than his own. There was a chunk of his nose missing too, but luckily he still had both his own eyes. His cheeks were heavily scarred for someone still so young, but being an Auror wasn't an occupation known to be good for your health.

Harry grinned. "Shocked to see me like this?"

"A little," Hermione admitted as she reached out and touched the bandages on his face and neck.

"Ran into one of the Parkinson brothers," he explained. "Had a spot of trouble with him."

Ginny pushed the lot of them into the kitchen and seated them at a beautifully laid out table. "I'm used to it now. But you should have heard me scream the first time he came home like that."

Ron grinned, but Hermione had a worried frown on her face.

"Let me have a look at that," she said quietly. "Do you have any more cuts like those?"

"Just the one on my chest."

Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at him. "Go on, then. Take that shirt off."

"Why Hermione, not in front of my wife!" he exclaimed.

Ginny snorted and quickly headed back to check on their dinner in the oven. Hermione shook her head, trying to ignore the fact that she was going red slightly.

"Just do it, you'll thank me later," she said curtly.

At this, Ron also ducked into the kitchen, leaving a grinning Harry behind in the capable hands of his fiancee.


	4. 3: Agony

**Chapter three: Agony**

"So…Ron tells me you've got a rather interesting new patient," Harry said as he wiped his fingers on his napkin.

"Must say I would be acting differently if I were in your place. Don't know whether I would be able to take care of him after everything he put you, well all of us, through," Ginny said. "I'd have punched him unconscious again the second he woke up."

"Trust me, I feel the same way. But it's my job, Gin," Hermione pointed out. "But do you know what's odd? He doesn't remember me or what it is he did to make our lives miserable. He only knows his name."

Ron raised his eyebrow. "You sure? He could just be pulling your leg. Would be right up his alley."

"Well..." she said hesitantly. "I considered that. And he does still act like a spoilt little brat. But he claims not to remember anything. And why would he lie? It doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"He could be just bored now that he's in a hospital bed. Perhaps this is his way to amuse himself now he's injured," Ginny suggested.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I just...don't think that's it. As much as I am inclined to distrust anything he says, I feel he's telling the truth. I mean, you should have seen what had happened to him. It was horrible."

Harry looked away as his face contracted into a look of sarcasm. "Since when do you care about a Death Eater's health? You _know_ he's one of them, don't you?"

Hermione looked at him angrily. "Of course I do. I _saw_ the Dark Mark. But it's just-"

She stopped herself and looked at Ron for support. Ron, however, looked away casually and said nothing. Her head snapped back towards Harry.

"I know you've never been able to stand him, even more so now he really did become Voldemort's lackey. But what I saw the day he was brought in was terrible. The others must've mistreated him badly, because I'm _sure_ you lot wouldn't mutilate someone like that," she said icily.

She knew very well both Harry and Ron had been called to face the Wizengamnot council once when they had retrieved Rabastan Lestrange in a very bad state. He had to be kept in a closed ward at St. Mungo's before he could be tried and put away.

"Hermione..." Ron said warningly. "That was uncalled for."

She huffed. "All I wanted to say was that Draco Malfoy has been mistreated, most likely by his own crowd."

"And what does that prove? That they're even more brutal than you thought. That, or it might all be a ruse. You know what that git is like."

She stood up from the table. "All I'm doing is my job. Just like you all are. That mine includes helping wounded Death Eaters while yours just includes wounding them, doesn't mean I'm not entitled to my own opinion even if it doesn't match up with yours."

"Sit down, Hermione," Ron said quietly. "Harry's just trying to warn you to be on your toes around him."

Harry nodded. "I've seen a lot more of what those people do to each other than you have. It's getting worse and worse. Voldemort is egging them on to do more horrible deeds every day. All I want to do is make sure you don't let yourself be fooled too easily."

"I won't," she said slowly. "I spent six years at school with him, remember? Not exactly in my good book, is he."

"Just keep an eye out." Harry said. "Constant Vigilance."

* * *

"We might have a lead on him, Blaise."

"Finally."

"Some old bat found him and sent him to St. Mungo's."

"Then we must hurry. If anyone finds out what it means, what we were trying..."

"Can't we just do it without him?"

"No! The Dark Lord wishes it so. It's the only way…After what happened to Bellatrix."

Eyes were averted and a short moment of silence followed to show respect. Quietly all of them were thinking of ways how to best avoid ending up the same as the dark Lord's former favorite, now freshly six feet under.

"We'll have to send _her_, then. Is she ready?"

"Yes. And eager too."

"Good."

* * *

"Healer Samuels? I wondered if I could have a quick word with you."

The man nodded vaguely. "Just a quick one, then. I've got a man with shriveled up toes waiting for me to take his boots off before they start eating him."

"You know the recent patient with the headwound?" Hermione asked.

"Something like Moran or Malone or…was it Molloy?"

"Malfoy," she corrected. "I wanted to know whether the markings on his chest had disappeared or not."

The Healer looked up. "Why don't you just go up and check? He's still here, isn't he?"

"Well, yes. But he...doesn't seem to remember much and I didn't want to upset him...If he doesn't remember it might be a big blow..."

Samuels pushed past her hastily. "The marks are still there. But you're not going anywhere near him now. You're supposed to follow me around so prepare yourself for some very agressive footwear."

Hermione nodded disappointedly. "Yes sir."

She slipped into a set of greenish robes and followed him into the room next door. A man with an agonised look on his face was sitting on the bed.

"You see...I was wondering if you knew what they meant, the markings I mean," Hermione continued.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Granger, but I don't know anything about them. What I _do_ know is that you're not concentrating properly on the job at hand."

She looked at her feet, blushing ashamed.

"Sorry," she muttered in an embarassed tone.

Samuels turned to the patient and looked at the boots.

"They were a gift from my wife's brother," the poor man said through gritted teeth.

"Never approved of you then, I see?" Samuels said with an sympathetic smile.

"No, not really...they were meant for my wife."

Hermione looked up curiously. "What do you mean?"

"They've been at each other's throats for years. She didn't trust the boots so she made me put them on first."

"Oh..." she said, looking away to hide her smile.

"Healer Granger...you might find this interesting..."

Hermione straightened out her face and peered over his shoulder. As she brought her face close to one of the man's feet, she noticed a small emblem of three golden 'W's on the centre of a purple circle embedded in the side.

She bit her lip with a soft giggle. "Yes, well it does make sense. One of their older brothers once had an unhappy penpall who sent him a hat like that..."

"Tell your brothers-in-law to stop making dangerous toys, will you Granger? They're responsible for at least a quarter of the minor injuries we get in here," Samuels said, also grinning.

The patient shook his feet violently. "I say! Are you going to help me or are you going to keep staring at them!"

With the soft tap of Samuels's wand, the shoes slipped off the man's feet and dropped to the floor where they remained motionless, but snarling heavily. Hermione picked them up by the laces and held them out in front of her.

"I'll just throw them out then, shall I?"

She turned around and walked down the corridor and headed towards the magical objects bin. She disposed of them quickly and turned around. She knew what she wanted to do now, and because Samuels wasn't anywhere in sight she felt she was allowed a little whim.

Quickly she walked to the single ward where Malfoy had been placed. He seemed to be asleep. She looked at his chart and flipped to the last page where she had scribbled a quick drawing of what she had seen on his chest. It would do for her research, but she really wanted to take a photograph of his chest so she could take it to the library. That way she'd stay as close to the real thing as possible and she would be ably to carry it with her.

But how could she take a picture of him without him knowing? And what would he say if he saw those markings? What if it brought back his memory? Secretly she hoped that, if this amnesia was real, she could help him regain his memory without the Death Eater part.

She didn't know why she wanted to help him, but, she reasoned, the world was already short of decent people so what was wrong in trying to create one more? She placed the chart back where it had been and looked at the room. Something had changed, but she couldn't determine what.

Suddenly she noticed a card on his bedside table. That hadn't been there before, she realised. She picked it up, curious to see who had sent him something. It had no personal message apart from the printed 'get well soon' in curvy letters, but at the bottom the sender had scribbled the name 'Pansy'.

"Pansy," she whispered.

It could only be Pansy Parkinson, his old girlfriend from Hogwarts. But she was a Death Eater too, wasn't she? At least, she had always hung around those that were Death Eater sons and daughters. Hermione fought the urge to tear the card into pieces and to throw them away in a bin, but she couldn't. If he had already seen it, he would wonder where it had gone.

She could only hide it a little behind a glass of pumpkin juice. She turned around and wanted to leave. Now that Malfoy was asleep she couldn't do anything. But as she was about to close the door behind her, she was called back.

"Who's Pansy?" he said as he saw her hand pulling the door shut.

She opened the door again and stepped back inside slowly.

"She's..."

She looked at him. It had surpised her a little that he didn't remember Pansy.

"You really don't know?" she asked quietly.

"Would I ask if I knew?" he sneered. "I don't enjoy my head being empty, Granger. And your constant wonderings seem to stress it even more. If I ask a question I want an answer."

Hermione looked at him. He seemed sincerely annoyed, sighing impatiently.

"And I don't especially enjoy your company either. But you're the only one around here who seems to know me. That's why I ask _you_."

Hermione's mouth slowly grew into a thin line as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Pansy was a girl from school," she said curtly.

She didn't want to name Slytherin or anything else that could trigger his memory too much.

"A girl from school? How does she know I'm here? What does she want from me?"

"I-" Hermione muttered hesitantly. "I remember that the two of you seemed close. She was your girlfriend at one point, I think."

"Girlfriend?" he yelled aggrivatedly. "Some girlfriend! She didn't even write me anything! The card's empty!"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Not my business."

She wanted to walk away, but he stood up, surprisingly swiftly, and grabbed her wrist.

"No, stop. You've got to stay. I need you to tell me everything you know. About her, about me...about school...I'm done with my mind being blank!"

Hermione pulled her hand back.

"Don't touch me!" she said shrilly, pointing her wand at him.

He let her go, slightly dazed, and slouched back down on his bed. "Whatever."

She stuffed her wand back in her pocket and turned around. "You're still the same egocentric and self-absorbed jerk you always were, Malfoy. I've got no reason to help you."

"You're a Healer," he remarked dryly. "Aren't you supposed to help me regain my memory?"

"_Regain,_" she barked. "But I'm not supposed to tell you anything you don't remember. Remembering is your task, not mine. I'm just here to help it along."

Not completely satisfied, she turned around and marched out of the room. She could have done better, but at least she had gotten herself out of that unpleasant situation.

Malfoy watched her disappear and shrugged. He disliked her company anyway. He scratched at the bandage on his left arm again absentmindedly and reached for the card on his bedside table.

"Pansy..."

The name, like Granger's, seemed oddly familiar in a vague way. But he couldn't remember a girlfriend. Suddenly the image of a girl in very pink and very frilly dressrobes hanging from his arm seemed to swim before his eyes.

Was that her?

He shook his head violently. That ugly girl couldn't have been his girlfriend, even though she seemed to appear in his mind a lot. Always fawning over him in some sort.

He snorted. "Like that would make me like her."

He scratched at the bandage again and looked at it. The wound he supposed was underneath it was beginning to itch and to burn more heavily. He tried to undo the knot but it was tied too tight and since he hadn't received his wand back yet he couldn't singe it off.

Suddenly he felt a surge of excruciating pain running through him as the burning sensation in his arm shot straight to his head. He screamed and fell to the floor as he started to twist and turn uncontrolably.

Outside his room he could hear other screams too, vaguely. A man's voice was screaching in the same painful agony as he was, and a woman crying a name; "Harry!"

* * *

**AN:** I just want to say that I really am flattered by all the people who have me on their alert lists. It feels wonderful to know people like to read your work. But I do have a small request; if you like it, or even if you dislike it, I would love to know what bits you(dis)like so that I can keep those things in mind and better my writing. So if any of you want to share your opinions of this fic with me, the review button is only a click away ;) Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I promise I will keep them coming!


	5. 4: Moving Mauve

**Chapter four: Moving Mauve**

* * *

"Harry! Are you alright!" Hermione screamed.

The young man crawled back on his feet and rubbed his forehead violently. He looked at her with a meaningful glance. She lifted him up and supported him as they stumbled into the closest room. She knew what had happened to him, it was the same ailment that had bothered him throughout their years at school.

She waited till he had seated himself in a chair before questioning him.

"What was it?" she asked worriedly.

Harry rubbed his scar slowly. "I'm not sure...It wasn't _happiness_...Perhaps...satisfaction?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Satisfaction about what?" she hissed as she stopped a couple of medi-witches from bustling into the room.

Harry frowned, as if he was thinking deeply. "I...don't know. I didn't really feel anything but the pain...Or hear anything for that matter."

She conjured up a glass of water and gave it to him after having taken a sip from it herself first. Harry gulped it down quickly.

"...What did you come here for anyway?" she asked suddenly. "You're not a fan of this place, are you?"

He grinned. "I know, but some things need to be taken care of personally. I figured that, if we want to know for sure if Malfoy's lost his memories, I should pay him a visit too. I wanted to see for myself."

"You sure? He might just take the mickey out of you, if you look at it from your perspective."

But not taking no for an answer, Harry wouldn't leave before Hermione had agreed. "I'll go check on him first. To see what mood he's in. If he's all stubborn again it won't do either of you any good."

She smiled and popped her head around the corner, peeking into the room next door where Malfoy was still quartered. She gasped when she saw him sprawled on the floor. Immediately she scrambled around the corner and ran inside.

The bandage on his left arm had been peeled at so she hastily refreshed the bandage with a flick of her wand. He looked pale and seemed to be unconscious. Throwing his arm over her shoulder, she lifted him up and carried him back to his bed.

"You're heavy for such a weak patient, Malfoy," she growled quietly.

But she was relieved to see he was still breathing and well. Harry looked at her from the dooropening.

"Is he alright?" he asked.

"I think so...He's still breathing just fine. And his pulse is normal," she said worriedly.

Harry raised his eyebrow. "You almost sound like you care..." he remarked dryly.

She ignored his sarcasm and pulled him closer. "Here, you might want to take a look at this while he's out. You might not get another chance soon."

"See what?"

She pulled Harry up to the side of the bed and, with a moment of hesitation, started to unbutton the hospital shirt Malfoy was wearing. Harry watched with an uncomfortable feeling. This wasn't something he had ever wished to see, an unconscious and nearly naked Draco Malfoy.

But when Hermione had folded back both sides of the now open shirt to reveal his chest, he understood what she had meant. Softly he whistled through his teeth, not knowing whether he should be in awe or horrified.

"I haven't been able to figure out what this is yet," she said softly. "I've drawn it on a sheet of paper and took it with me down to the library, but haven't had any luck yet. Not a single clue."

"This is definitely dark magic," Harry said with an equally soft voice. "It must be something like...a jinx? Or, or an incantation. But definitely dark."

She nodded. "Now do you see why I took care of him _aside_ from it being my job? Whoever did this did not have good intentions towards Malfoy. And dark magic is where you Aurors come in, isn't it?"

"Hermione...are you trying to get me to take this on as a case? I don't choose what I take care of, they assign you to things. Unless you run into someone, I suppose."

"So will you?" she asked hopefully while buttoning up the shirt again. "This sort of fell into your lap, didn't it?"

Harry took her by the arm, pulling her back into the corridor.

"Perhaps. All I can promise is to look into those markings he had. And Ron will too?"

Hermione looked hesitant. "I'm not sure Ron would do that...I haven't really asked him to and I don't dare to. He always loathed him just a little bit more than you did. So I was hoping we could keep this from him. But...perhaps if we didn't tell him what exactly it was for..."

"Hermione, you're more conniving than one might think," Harry said with a grin. "Let's drop the subject for now, okay? I prefer the subject of lunch."

Hermione laughed and looked at her watch. "Oh, alright then. My break starts in five minutes. Let's head down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee."

"_And_ a sandwich."

* * *

"Oh Ronnikins! There are some brochures here for you!" Ginny yelled up the stairs.

Ron hastened down to receive some glossy paged magazines called 'W(h)itch Wedding' and 'Bewitching Brides'. He smirked.

"Why thanks, Ginny. Though I hardly think Hermione wants me walking down the isle in a dress named 'enchanted emerald', I really appreciate the gesture."

Now Ginny smirked too. "No, I guess you're right. 'Moving mauve' goes better with your eyes."

"Ha ha," Ron laughed sarcastically.

"No, I agree," said Hermione as she appeared in the opening of the door. "Mauve matches your eyes, though it clashes with your red hair."

"I love you too," Ron sneered, still sarcastic.

Hermione laughed and pecked his cheek. Ginny passed the magazines on to her.

"I think you'll find them more usefull than he does."

Hermione started to flick through them on the couch and Ginny sat down next to her.

"You're not actually wanting me to wear mauve dress robes, are you?" Ron asked slowly.

Hermione laughed again. "Dont worry. I prefer the classic black ones and you know it."

"And I'll help her pick out something to match for herself," Ginny said confidently. "Trust me, you'd rather want my help than mum's."

Ron nodded his head with a dark expression on his face. "Once she had gotten over the shock of Bill's wedding, she pulled out even bigger guns for Ginny's. She'll take complete charge if you ask her for help."

He sat down too and lazily waved his wand at the fire place.

"Talking about help..." Hermione said suddenly. "Ron, I wondered if you could help me with something. There's something wrong...with one of my patients."

Silently she pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket with squiggly lines drawn on it. Ginny's eyes widened slightly as she recognised it. She gave Hermione a curious glance and opened her mouth to say something but Hermione shook her head. Ron looked at it from different angles.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know. I was hoping you could consult the books at the Auror Academy library. You know, if you're going there tomorrow. I can't find it in any of my own books and...if we want to cure the patient we need to know what it is."

Ron shrugged and stuffed the scrap of paper in his pocket.

"Sure," he said casually before turning his attention to the owl at the window that was trying to get in.

Ginny leaned towards Hermione.

"What are you doing," she hissed. "Tell him who the patient is! You know he doesn't want to help Malfoy! And nor does Harry but he doesn't want to let you down..."

"Listen, if Harry _really_ didn't want to help me out then he wouldn't have offered to in the first place. And Ron will only help me if he doesn't know. And he doesn't _need_ to know because it's got nothing to do with either of them."

Ginny bit her lip. "But what if they get caught? What if these two future Aurors get caught searching for information on some form of really dark magic? If anyone finds out it could go on their record...or they might get kicked out."

Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Isn't it their job to know as much as they can about the Dark Arts in order to fight it? Don't worry, your husband won't get into trouble."

Ron returned to them with a frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked quickly.

"I've got to go to the Ministry. Harry too. Apparentally they've got a quick job for us...Probably found a Death Eater crawling out from under a rock." He kissed Hermione on the cheek tenderly and smiled at her softly. "Sorry. You'd better not wait up for me because I have no idea how long it's going to take."

"...Okay. But wake me up when you get home. I don't like it when you just let me sleep."

He nodded and kissed her again. "I will," he promised.

Then he summoned his cloak and disappeared with a crack. Ginny looked at Hermione, giving her a slightly blameful look.

"I know you love him, anyone can see that. But please, keep in mind that Ron's feelings might get hurt if you keep him in the dark like this."

"I know..."

"Hermione, just make sure you never think Malfoy to be more important than Ron. _He's_ the one you're going to marry."

"What do you take me for?" Hermione said harshly.

"Sorry...But I needed to look out for my brother, you understand. Sisterly instinct."

A soft smile spread over Hermione's face. "I understand. Now, is your sisterly instinct staying for dinner too or is it just the two of us?"

Ginny giggled. "Let me help you in the kitchen. How many potatoes to peel?"

"Only half a bag."

"And after dinner..."

"Dresses of course!" Hermione winked, pointing at the magazines.

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly. The pain in his arm had stopped, he realised. Sitting up, he looked around the room, hoping there would be someone to tell him what had happened.

Judging by the nagging pain at the back of his head and all across his shoulders and back, he had been lying on the cold floor, probably spread-eagled, for quite a while before anyone had bothered to pick him up and put him on the bed.

He scratched at the bandage on his left arm and realised that it had been changed.

'Changed while I was out...I want to know what's _under_ that thing!' he thought angrily.

He hoisted himself off the bed and looked at himself in the mirror. His skin seemed even paler than before and somehow he looked worse than before.

'No one looking after me, no one helping...That's _it_. I'm out of here.'

He walked over to the closet and found what appeared to be a new set of robes. He took them out and started unbuttoning the hospital shirt as he cast another scanning look at himself in the mirror. Suddenly he frowned and turned himself fully in front of the mirror.

He had scars all over his chest, running up and down in jagged shapes. He let the sides of the shirt hang by his sides as he followed the lines on his chest with the tip of his finger. The lines were very deep and rough around the edges.

'Scars!' he thought outraged. 'I've got scars!'

Suddenly a shiver ran down his spine. What had happened to him that he had deserved this? Who had done this to him?

"Hello Draco," said a purring voice from the door opening.

He clasped the sides of his shirt to his chest and snapped around. He saw a young woman with short black hair standing at the door, a fond expression on her face. He raised his eyebrow and looked back at her curiously.

"Who are you?" he snapped.

Her smile seemed to falter. "You...don't remember?" she asked quietly.

"No and I don't think I care. Leave me alone, will you," he said irritably.

He was not at all interested in this woman at the moment. He was more interested in looking into the mirror again. The sight of those scars had really shaken him up.

The woman pouted and walked towards him. "But darling...how can you have forgotten me! I sent you a card, hoping you'd respond, but you never answered..."

"Wait...You're Pansy?"


	6. 5: Blissful Ignorance

**Chapter five: Blissful Ignorance**

"Ah, Hermione Granger! On rounds today or still stuck in the library," Healer Samuels greeted her cordially.

Hermione blushed, knowing well that she had been neglecting her patients the last few days.

"No sir, I just completed my rounds. As a matter of fact, mister Atwood just asked for you."

"Atwood? The man with streeler poisoning?"

She nodded. "Yes. And he wanted to know whether he could be leaving soon. Something about holidayplans in Africa."

She followed Samuels as he walked down the corridor on his way to the patient. He grinned at her over his shoulder.

"Africa? Some people never learn, do they?"

"I'll tell him about those streelers, sir. He won't be eating anything with traces of them on it anymore."

They passed the room where Draco Malfoy still resided. She looked inside quickly and was shocked to see he was not alone. She knew she couldn't leave Samuels on his own now. His joke about the library had also had a sharp edge to it. It was his way of warning her, she knew.

If she left now to check on Malfoy, she could risk her favored position in Samuels's opinion.

'I'm not going to spoil my own career!' she told herself angrily as she hurried to catch up with Samuels.

She only vaguely listened to the conversation between the patient and the Healer. She still couldn't understand why she cared about Malfoy's well-being at all, but now that she did, she was planning to be the best Healer she could. If that meant following his every move with a close eye, she would do it.

But what could a visitor have to do with him? She tightened her hands into fists as the conversation dragged on. She tried to remember who it was she had seen with him in that room, but every detail seemed to have escaped her.

She shook her head. 'Stop it and focus!'

Samuels looked at her curiously. "Something wrong, Healer Granger?"

"N-no sir. Sorry. I- I just remembered something urgent and I-"

He smiled, unexpectedly. "Go on, appointment with a dressmaker, no doubt."

She raised an eyebrow but quicky changed her frown into a smile. "Yes! That's it! Forgot about it completely.'

He shook his head with an understanding expression. "Doesn't matter, run along. But I'll expect you to come in tomorrow morning to do my rounds to make up for it."

"Of course, sir."

Eagerly, and completely surprised by Samuels, she turned around and quickly left the room. Behind her she could hear Samuels talk to the patient.

"She's getting married, you know," he explained. "Lots to do and remember."

She smiled and hurried down the corridor to Malfoy's room. To her surprise he was alone again. After hesitating a moment she entered the room anyway. He looked up from what he was reading and ignored her the second he recognised her.

"Come to check up on your project?" he remarked dryly.

She leaned against the wall. When he didn't say anything else, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Why 'project'?" she asked after a while.

He threw what he had been reading at her. She bent down to pick it up and was surprised to see it was his medical chart.

"Why are you reading this? It can't make much sense to you..."

He looked at her angrily. "Because I want to know what the hell happened to me!"

She said nothing and silently placed the chart back on its peg on the end of the bed.

"Will you _please_ tell me what the hell you lot did to me on the operation table!" he yelled. "Look at this! Look at this!"

He opened his shirt violently and pointed at his chest.

"What did I do to deserve this! What kind of experiment was I used for!"

"I- I don't know..." she whispered quietly.

"What do you mean!" he roared. "_You_ were the one who treated me, right? _Right?_ You told me about mean things I did to you at school...was this your payback?"

She felt anger rise inside her. How dare he accuse her of something so horrible? After all she had done for him, after she had stood up for him when her friends had refused to believe him.

"Don't ever talk to me like that!" she roared back. "I'd _never_ stoop to your level, I'd never want to take _revenge_. You don't know me, you know nothing about me so how _dare_ you start blaming me! You came in with all of that and I just tried my best to treat you. I'll bet you owe those scars to those friends of yours so there's no one to blame but _you_ for keeping people like that close to you!"

The second after her echoes had died away she knew she had gone too far. He sat down on the bed in silence, with one hand clasped to his wrist. He looked at her for a while, wondering what would come next. But nothing came next.

"...You know my friends, then?" he asked finaly.

"...Some of them," she said distantly. "Vague....school acquaintences..."

"What were they like?" he asked, now sounding eager instead of angry. "Who are they, names...faces...I want to remember."

Hermione turned around. What was she to do now? She had wanted to 'raise' him differently from what he was like before. To pull him to the light side, this time. If she gave him names and faces...memories could be stirred and who knew what that would cause him to do.

"Aren't you supposed to help me get better?" he said with a smirk.

"No." she answered resolutely. "I need to help you physically. Memories, however, are up to you to regain on your own. I'm only allowed to give you a little push. Hospital policy."

She smirked back at him, but he didn't see.

"They must have been monsters...if you don't even want to give me their names..."

Hermione said nothing now, but even her face betrayed what she was thinking.

"Strange though...That Pansy woman seemed rather nice."

"What!" Hermione screeched. "_That_ was who came to visit you? That...that cow?"

"Not very nice to say that."

"Not very nice to mutilate your old boyfriend either," she spat, against her better judgement.

He raise his eyebrow curiously. "You think _she_ did that to me? Don't be crazy. That woman adores me, that was quite obvious."

Hermione huffed. She couldn't prove anything and she had to admit that it was true that she was just guessing too.

"If only I knew..." she sighed, thinking about what the scars on Malfoy's chest could mean.

They heard a knock on the door and Hermione turned around.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a moment?" a young man said.

Malfoy watched her leave with a nod. He crawled out of his bed and listened at the door.

"This book is all I could find, but I'll look into it some more. Ron's looking into it too. He found a book on dark magic, but it's taking him forever to get through it. Lots of faded pages..."

He could see Hermione smile softly. "I'll hear about it tonight. Thank you so much, Harry."

She gave him a tight hug and pecked his cheek.

"This _must_ be able to give me a clue."

"I just want to warn you that this stuff is very dark...There are things described in here neither of us have ever seen."

She nodded. "I'll be carefull. Now go, quickly. You're not even supposed to be here, are you. Say hello to Ginny for me."

The man nodded. "I will. See you later, Hermione."

She took the book he had given her and slipped it inside her robes. When she walked back into the room she found herself facing a curious Malfoy.

"Who was that?" he said in an accusing tone of voice. "Who was he, he looks..."

"You remember him?" she asked incredulously.

"Maybe," he said, sounding like a little child. "He seems familiar. Why did you hug him?"

She laughed. "Because he's my friend. Always has been."

"Not your boyfriend then?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "That's not something you ask someone you hardly know."

"I thought you said we went to school together for years," he remarked dryly.

"Like you remember anything about it," she retorted snappily. "No, Harry's not my boyfriend. But that doesn't really concern you, now does it. What _does_ concern you is Pansy. You musn't listen to her. She's a liar and a cheat and she'll bring you nothing but trouble."

She placed her hands on her hips and found a form of pride inside her as she said that. She knew she had just sounded very convincing. Or at least very certain. She had actually done something to stop Malfoy from finding out too much about his past, instead of just thinking about it. But judging by the look on his face, Malfoy hadn't been paying much attention to her words.

"She seemed nice enough. Kept calling me darling." He looked at Hermione to catch her reaction to this.

"I just thought I'd warn you. If you remembered anything about her you'd know why I-" she stopped herself and sat down on the side of his bed, suddenly having a rather luminous idea. "You said you felt something familiar about Harry. How did the sight of him make you feel...agitated? Or...happy?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Don't really know."

"Do you...remember anything about someone called 'the boy who lived'?" she urged on.

"...Called Potter, wasn't he? Something like that. Potter...Potty..."

"Yes...that's right. Harry Potter. The one who came by just a moment ago. My friend."

"The one who _isn't_ your boyfriend," he tried again.

She sighed loudly. "Oh for goodness' sake. Yes, that one. Do you remember anything, _anything_, that involves him?"

Malfoy bit down on his lip and a pensieve look washed over his face. Hermione watched him intently, biting down on her lip too, for luck. Suddenly his eyes lit up.

"Yes. I do remember him. We're playing a game. Quidditch, I suppose. Yes. Quidditch."

Hermione smiled, but tried to keep her face straight. This was going just the way she had hoped it would. This was going to work!

"You see!" she said triumphantly. "You two were friends, playing Quidditch together!"

He looked at her with doubt. "You sure? We seemed rather competative..."

"Of course I'm sure. Who could know better than me! The two of you were competative, but only the way friends are. And I should know, I was there."

"I wish _I_ had been there," Draco muttered under his voice.

He looked into her eyes. She seemed nervous, her eyes swerved all over the place. But she did seem to be honest.

"So I was his friend. Right. But then, I had to be yours too...And didn't we hate each other?" he asked, deep thought-wrinkles appearing above his eyes.

"T-that's...we had our differences, yes...But...but we became friends in the end...After you had become Harry's...Just...trust me on this, okay? Which one of us has the better memory at the moment..."

* * *

"Nothing?"

"Nothing at all. Like we suspected. Looks around in blissful ignorance."

"Good. You know what to do, so get back there and do what needs to be done. We all have faith in you."

"I'm going to need some help to convince him. I was thinking about...Nox. He will be usefull somewhere along the line."

"Then ask Gregory. I'm sure Nox will be at your disposal. Now go."

* * *

"You told him _what_? Hermione, how could you!"

"I'm sorry Ginny...I _had_ to. Don't you see what a great opportunity this is? We can get him to join us, we can convert him to our side and we can 'raise' him to think like we do," Hermione said excitedly.

Ginny closed the wedding brochure she had been reading and thumped Hermione on the head with it.

"By giving him new memories and a new past? By inventing a whole new history for him? By telling him he likes Harry?"

"Yes!"

Ginny sighed. "What if this is _still_ a trick. He'll find out a lot about all of us, too much, if we start spending time with him. And after a while he'll just scurry back to his friends to tell them everything he found out and then we'll hang for sure."

Hermione looked away, trying to hide her annoyed pout. "I just want to help. Look, I'll go home now. Got something to check up on."

"Does it have anything to do with-"

"No!"

"Yes it does," Ginny said heatedly. "I'll say it again, Hermione. By doing what you're doing now you could be harming yourself a lot more than you might realise. Friendships can only take so much. As can an engagement. Don't risk what you've got to help Malfoy. It won't be worth it in the end."


	7. 6: Blessings

**Chapter six: Blessings**

Reluctantly she stepped out of the booth. The fabric of the white silky dress made a strange swishing sound as it dragged over the floor with every step she took. She made strange faces at Ginny, who looked a bit amused.

"Well..." Ginny said, "I never thought you were the type to go for princess-like puffed up sleeves. Or thirteen layers of chiffon."

"Nor did I," Hermione said painstakingly. "Your mother picked this one out last week when I wasn't there...She can't honestly think this is pretty, can she?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "You know how many dresses I had to say no to. Each and everyone of them was picked by her. Not until I threatened to let Fleur help me pick out a dress did she allow me to choose one myself."

"You were lucky. I've never seen a prettier weddingdress than the one you wore. I can only imagine the jealousy that went through Britain the day those pictures were published in Witch Weekly."

"Without our consent," Ginny remarked angrily. "I thought Rita Skeeter had learned her lesson."

Hermione nodded vaguely as she looked at herself in one of the many mirrors. She sighed.

"I don't want to offend your mother, but I'm not wearing this."

She marched back into the dressingroom and started to unclasp the many little hooks that kept the bodice together. Ginny got to her feet and started to look through a clothesrack near the seat she had been sitting in.

"Hey...Hermione. Can I ask you something?"

A muffled 'hmm' was her answer.

"...Can you still wear white? Or should I be looking in a different corner of the boutique."

Hermione yanked the curtain of her changingbooth open and stared at Ginny incredulously. "What! Ginny...Are you seriously asking me this? Are you even sure you want to know the answer?"

Ginny chuckled and moved on to a different rack casually. "So I guess you can't. Should I tell mum or do you want to?"

Hermione paled. "I...She- she doesn't _really_ think he and I haven't- Does she? And- and why shouldn't I be able to wear white because of that anyway. It doesn't mean purity the way it did centuries ago...Everyone can wear white nowadays, can't they?" she blabbed.

Ginny said nothing. Hermione sighed and tried to compose herself again.

"I was actually sort of looking forward to wearing white..."

"...Then you should. No one but you and Ron knows, right?"

"But that's cheating...Besides, _you_ know."

"Like I would tell anyone!" Ginny said indignantly. "I agree with you. White doesn't mean what it used to. If you want a white dress then go for it. It's your wedding. Besides, you can't honestly think I could still wear white on my weddingday according to those standards. As long as you don't wear the dress you wore before, I'll be happy."

Hermione laughed. By now she had slipped back into her suede skirt and black sweater and reached for her shoes outside the curtain.

"I'll just have to come back another time. I've got to get back to St. Mungo's soon."

She stepped into the boutique and was surprised to find Ginny in lip-lock with Harry, who had apparentally walked into the shop within the last few seconds. Ginny released her husband and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Well, I'll be off. You two have fun, but hands off, okay?" she added with a wink.

Harry smiled uncomfortably and Hermione shook her head. When the door had closed behind Ginny, Harry's face turned more serious.

"Sorry to bother you about this here, but I found something."

Her eyes lit up. "You found-"

"Not here," he hissed. "Come on, there's a cafe up the road."

She nodded and hung the dress back on one of the racks. They left the shop and headed out into the street, quickly making their way over the snowcovered pavement into the less chilly and more welcome environment of an empty little coffeeplace.

Harry walked straight towards one of the more hidden little booths in the back, far away from the counter.

"Well?" Hermione asked eagerly.

Harry shoved a pieve of parchment across the surface of the table. She unfolded it and gasped. It was a drawing, very similar to the design of markings Malfoy had on his chest, only this time all of it had been carved into a tabletop.

"Where did you find this?" she whispered.

"In one of the restricted books at Hogwarts. My dad's old cloak is still usefull for these kinds of things. I can't make out what it says, though. I though you might know."

She bit her lip and touched the signs beside the picture tentatively. "It's been a while since I read runes," she said quietly.

"I found more. In one of the Academy's books there's a chapter about sactrificial dark magic, old magic." He touched his scar to indicate what kind of old magic he was talking about.

"Ancient Magick?" she whispered. "But I thought no one used that anymore...And I thought-_He_ doesn't believe in it, does he?"

"Perhaps he does now. That chapter was mostly about old crones sacrificing goats during ceremonies at full moon and things like that. But there was a single paragraph that said some old mages used to brand runes into stone or wood while sacrificing a victim in order to invoke a special force. Something like-"

"Celestial Blessings," Hermione said suddenly. "That's what these mean."

She pointed at a small group of runes in the top corner of the page. Harry frowned.

"Does't seem logical...Celestial Blessings are powers of good, intended only to _do_ good, aren't they?"

"Yes, exactly! Someone as vile as Voldemort would never be able to invoke powers like this without harming himself. These blessings are essentially powers that feed on love...and therefore they are _made_ of love. They are the embodiment of the feelings of love and goodness that the invoker feels at the very moment of the sacrifice. And Voldemort can't handle something this powerful and would never be able to conjure up powers made of love in the first place....we know he's not capable of that."

"So something's not right..."

"Exactly. And what about Malfoy? Wasn't he one of the most loyal...No, this _can't_ be right."

"It's all I could find. Perhaps you should just let it rest. Messing about with Ancient Magick like this does more harm than good. Malfoy is not our problem," Harry said slowly.

Hermione sighed. "Perhaps...but just keep in mind that Voldemort does nothing without a purpose."

"Unless it's out of pleasure. This could just be a punishment for disloyalty. It might not even mean anything, Hermione."

She cast her eyes down. He still didn't believe her then.

"Fine," she said. "I understand. I won't ask more of you. Ginny wouldn't approve of you helping me anyway."

He nodded appologetically. "You know what she can be like sometimes. She doesn't want me to be in more danger than neccesarry."

"You don't need to explain, I get it. It's the same with me and Ron, really."

She tightened her hand around the paper he had passed her. Harry nodded and got to his feet.

"I've got to go. Please don't do anything stupid, Hermione. We would like to keep you in one piece."

She lowered her head just a little more so he couldn't see her eyes. Knowing he wouldn't get her to look at him, he left the cafe with a resigned expression on his face. She couldn't help hearing all the different kinds of thoughts running through her mind.

She knew she should want to have as little to do with Draco and this messed up riddle as possible, but on the other hand she wanted to find out what was going on. She obviously wasn't getting more information out of Harry and Ron. They would never approve of her digging into this more and neither of them would help her more than they already had.

And she couldn't ask Draco for information because he didn't remember anything. Suddenly the parchment in her hand started to itch. Why not show this to him? He might recognize something. She had already messed with his memories so what was stopping her from doing it again…

"Ugh, I'm going to be such a bad Healer without ethics and values..." she muttered.

She got to her feet, suddenly the image of Pansy coming back to visit Draco stung her. No way was she going to let that conniving cow convince Draco she was an innocent in all this. She had to get him to believe _her_ so that, if he did get his memory back, he'd owe her.

Determined to leave the shop, she picked up her bag and wanted to rush out. But as she pulled her bag over her shoulder, the seem broke, spilling her wand, books and diary all over the floor. Annoyed she repaired it and stuffed everything back inside.

One of the books caught her eye. It was the one Harry had given her before. She could hit herself for forgetting about this. She remembered him telling her it was filled to the brim with dark stuff. She should have started reading this days ago.

She stuffed the pages he had given her a few minutes earlier between the pages of the book and stuffed it back in her bag. First things first. Without having done some reading, talking to Draco would be pointless.

Not the hospital, then, but the library became her destination as she set out the door of the cafe.

* * *

"Ah, darling! You're awake."

"...I am," he said slowly.

The woman beside him, Pansy, was really a pretty thing to look at. Her black hair captured her face like a frame, as if it was a painting. She looked different from that memory of her in a frilly dress, but he could understand why he had chosen her now. But he would like to remember as well.

All he could see when he looked at her were the images of a schoolgirl who never could have dreamed of attaining such beauty. She leaned forward and took his hand. She was talking, obviously because her painted lips were moving, but he found his attention wandering to her eyes more than to her voice.

There was something in those eyes, something hidden, that he just wanted to uncover. Her smile seemed to invite him to do so anyway. Yet her eyes, if anything, seemed never to unwind, never to relax. Not even when the rest of her was completely at ease. He remembered Granger telling him not to trust Pansy and at the moment he felt inclined to trust the young Healer.

"Oh Draco, darling. You have no idea how worried I've been these last few weeks!" she sighed. "You were gone all of a sudden. Your parents had no clue as to where to were, nor did your friends...You left us all behind without so much as a note. Next thing I hear you wound up in this place with amnesia...and I wasn't even allowed to visit you the moment I heard. I had to wait till you remembered, but you never did remember me..."

He smirked. "I'm trying to remember as much as I can. Trust me, I _want_ to."

She smiled prettily. "I wish they'd just let you out of here. I don't see the point of keeping you away from us. If they'd let me take you home, to your friends and family, I'm sure you'd remember everything much sooner there..."

He nodded vaguely and allowed her to jabber on.

"Vincent and Gregory would be so pleased to see you again. And I know Blaise wouldn't know how to compose himself if he knew you were alright. After all, he _was_ your best friend."

Draco looked up. "Pansy, darling...could you repeat that name?"

"What, Blaise? Blaise Zabini...He's been your closest friend for ages."

"Blaise, huh...So much for Ha-"

He stopped. Hermione had told him not to trust Pansy. She had also told him that some Harry Potter was his best friend. And here was this Pansy telling him about Blaise and Vincent, all names that didn't seem to be ringing any bells.

He pushed her hand away and stared at the door. At the moment, he didn't know who to believe. The choice he had was limited, he had to pick between a gorgeous woman who adored him, but who could be lying so easily, and another one who seemed to be telling the truth but apparently seemed to have hated him in the past.

Pansy had stopped talking and tried to get his attention. "Darling?"

He shook his head vaguely.

"...You seem tired. I'll go home and let you rest, then. Perhaps, next time, I'll bring along a surprise."

Again she smiled prettily as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"I'll be back soon, love," she whispered.


	8. 7: Baby Steps

**AN: I'm getting a little impatient myself; I want to get to the exciting part of the story so I decided I would post another chapter today :) Hopefully you'll enjoy the pun and now, slowly but surely, the spells are going to start to fly. And remember, a review is the mere click of a button away! (yes, I know, not very subtle) Well, enjoy! **

**Chapter seven: Baby Steps**

"Ron? Are you home?" Hermione dropped her keys on the kitchen table and flicked the light on.

The kitchen was empty, which wasn't a big surprise because it was already past midnight. Tired, she set her bag down on a chair and walked up the stairs after having locked and bolted the doors.

"Ron?"

Soft light came from underneath the bedroom door. She opened it quietly and peeked around the corner. The room was littered with small candles on the floor, all placed around the bed. Ron, who still sat up straight in bed, had apparentally planned a romantic evening. He greeted her sleepily and tried to hide a yawn.

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, Ron. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stay out so late. I'm sorry I ruined your surpirse."

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I should have remembered you had a late shift at the hospital today."

"But..." Hermione started.

Though as soon as the word had left her mouth, she realised it wouldn't be a good idea to tell him she had been at the library to read about Celestial Blessings all night, when Ron had been waiting up for her the entire time. Again she bit her lip.

"Y- yeah. It's almost like a never-ending task, isn't it. Hospitals. Always busy."

She turned her back to him quickly as she sat down on the edge of the bed to take off her shoes. She started when she felt Ron's hand brush her back.

"Well, you're home now," he said softly.

She threw him a smile over her shoulder and got up from the bed again so she could change into her nightgown.

"Well, examinations are coming closer," Ron continued. "Harry and me are spending every free minute we have rereading our textbooks. You should see him, though! He's turned into you all of a sudden, going up and down to the library and reading extra books for back-up information. He gets grumpy when you ask him about it, though."

Hermione slipped under the sheets and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Does he? I- I had no idea you two were under so much pressure..."

"Yeah...I tried to sneek a peek at one of those books once and he snarled at me! I'm sure he would have bitten me if I had touched it," he chuckled. "Strange boy, he is sometimes. Well, I managed to get my hands on that book in the end. Just for curiosity's sake. You know what it's about? Ancient Magick...I'm betting he's doing an extra assignment on his mother's protection."

Hermione nodded uncomfortably and said nothing. She knew that Ron was describing the book that she now had hidden in her bag downstairs.

He kissed the top of her head. "I've missed you, you know. I hardly ever see you these days."

"I've missed you too."

"I want to spend some time with you. Just you. Got time this weekend?"

"I- I think so..."

"You don't seem very enthousiastic."

"Oh," she said quietly. "No, that's not it. I'd love to go away this weekend. It's just...that...Well, Harry's been helping me, that's what the book was for."

"Why would you need-"

"And I didn't work tonight. You were right, I had the night off. But I was so lost in all that reading that I had no idea it was so late, and-"

Ron sat up.

"Why would you need Harry's help, _or_ that book?" he asked.

"Because I've been trying to figure out what's wrong with Malfoy...But honestly I didn't know you had something planned! Otherwise I would have come home straight away!"

"...I guess that's good. That your work means so much to you...But Hermione, when was the last time _we_ did something fun together? If you don't tell me what you're doing then how am I supposed to know? Don't leave me out of your life, okay? I want to know. And I want to help. Though not with Malfoy, I don't care about him at all. But I do care about you. And that you went to Harry behind my back...Like I said, we need to make some times for each other, I don't want to feel left out. I feel I've got a little more right to enjoy your company than Malfoy does."

She nodded quickly and fervently. "Yes, you're right. And I'm sorry, I should have been more open with you. I didn't want to keep you in the dark, it just...sort of happened that way. I'll leave Malfoy alone from now on. But I don't want to think about Malfoy right now...I'm more interested in you."

He wrapped his arms around her and pecked her lips happily. "That's the spirit. As long as you're focussed on me right now, I'm satisfied."

She returned his grin and kissed him. "You've got something in mind?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can think of something."

* * *

"Good morning, darling," a soft voice whispered.

Draco opened his eyes slowly and found himself looking into the eyes of Pansy, the delicious creature that kept coming by. He smiled sleepily.

Though he had virtually no memories of her this beautiful, he now recognised her face clearly from earlier days. Still slightly confused about how he could have fallen in love with anyone who had such a clingy personality like hers, he had gladly accepted her claims of a relationship. After all, her beauty compensated for that well enough.

"What are you doing here so early?" he asked as he sat up.

She smiled knowingly. "I told you I'd have a surprise for you, didn't I? Well then, sit up."

She pecked his cheek and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You can come in now," she called to someone still outside the room.

Draco sat up dutifully and looked at the man who came in. Sure, the face might have been a familiar one, had he still had his memories. He squinted to get a closer look, especially of the eyes. He found eyes told him most about people he ought to remember.

"I'll probably should know you," he said apologetically. "But I'm sorry to say-"

"Oh, not _him_," Pansy said dismissively. "It's not him I meant. Look at who he's carrying, my darling. Don't you remember him?"

Draco felt dazed as the strange man placed a small child in his arms, a baby. Worried, Draco looked at Pansy.

"Don't tell me that- is this..."

"That's your son, darling! _Our_ son."

He looked at the child emptily and Pansy's face fell.

"You don't remember him either? But he's our son. He's the next Malfoy in line. He's your mother's pride and joy! And yours! And mine!"

"But I don't remember his eyes..."

'I don't remember his eyes at all...Even when I do remember Pansy's and Granger's. I don't recognise them...' he thought miserably.

How could he not remember his own son? He couldn't even get himself to remember the child's name, he realised guiltily.

"What's his name?" he asked quietly.

Pansy kissed its head softly. "His name is Nox. It was my favourite pick from the list we made."

Draco turned his head away and looked out the window.

"...So I have a son," he stated pensively. "I have a son."

"Aren't you pleased?" Pansy asked carefully.

He looked away again.

"Darling?"

Suddenly he threw his legs over the edge of the bed roughly and pushed the child into Pansy's arms. "Go away."

"What?"

"I want to be alone! Go away!"

At that moment the door flew open.

"What's all that noise in here?" Hermione roared as she marched in. "The patient next door complained."

She looked around angrily, as if she was daring anyone to step up. Her eyes softened, however, when she saw the guests in the room.

"O- oh...Parkinson...Crabbe...Nice to see you, I suppose..." she stuttered surprised.

Pansy's eyes narrowed as she grimaced. "Ganger," she acknowledged coldly.

Hermione turned away to look at Draco.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she asked accusively. "You're supposed to be in bed."

"I need fresh air," he said airily.

"So crack a window. I'm just here to tell you to pipe down. Besides, it's not good for him to have so many guests around." Hermione eyed the child. "_Especially_ kids."

Pansy huffed. "I thought it'd be a good thing to show him his family. _Especially_ the latest addition."

Within the timespan of a single second, Hermione's face had shown all expressions known to man. From shock to utter disgust, she had voiced them all.

"Out," she gasped, pointing her hand vaguely in the direction of the door. "All of you, out."

Pansy clasped the child around her neck tightly and brushed past Hermione haughtily. "Don't think you can get rid of me this easily," she heard Pansy whisper. "We'll be back, my son and me. And Draco _will_ come home, one way or another."

"Visiting hour's over," was all Hermione could reply.

Somehow, she felt as if all of the air had been punched from her lungs. She reached for a chair and sat down, trying to get her wheezing to stop. Why was this effecting her so much? It was only bloody Malfoy. She felt him eyeing her suspiciously.

"You alright?"

"I've got to go check- Do you, even slightly, remember a child?"

"Like hell I do," he remarked dryly.

"I've got to check the register. I'll...be right back."

Draco watched her confused, wondering why she felt so much more surprised by the news than he was.

* * *

"Aha! I knew it!" she hissed. "Thank you register and thank you hospital."

She kissed the document in her hands triumphantly. She knew very well that she was breaking hospital policy by reading these confidential files, not to mention her promise to Ron of not poking around in Malfoy's business anymore. But she had felt something was not right the second she had laid eyes on Pansy, that the family picture was wrong. And the file had just proven her right, so meddling had been justified, she felt.

"A kid, my foot. She never really changed after all, the conniving little tramp."

"Not talking about a patient, I hope," said Healer Samuels behind her quietly, making her jump.

She turned around, her hand clasped to her heart.

"...No, of course not," she said, trying to get her flustered face to calm down again. "Just...remeniscing, I suppose. Well, time to go home!"

She listened to her own voice chattering away, realising that she sounded far from convincing. She tried a smile, which turned out to be a nervous one, and dashed under his arm.

"Got to run, really! See you tomorrow, sir!"

She skidded to a halt in front of her locker to open it and quickly hid the file she had swiped minutes before in between the pages of the book Harry had given her. With a satisfied gleam in her eyes she marched confidently towards the exit. Now she had everything together, the book, the file and the scrap about blessings, all under lock and key.

Once she was outside, she felt her face fall. Now that she had discovered this huge breakthrough, she really wanted to share it with Malfoy, but it was late and she couldn't go back inside again. Not now she was already running late for her own plans. She'd have to wait till tomorrow.

Grudgingly she walked on and rummaged around in her pockets to find her wand so she could apparate home. She looked up shiftily when she felt someone's eyes burning in her back.

"Ron! What are you doing here?" she said, her scowl instantly melting into a smile. "I thought you'd meet me there."

"I switched with Harry. He still owed me one so I thought I'd come pick you up."

She took his arm. "You are the best. And I've got so much to tell you, you're never going to believe this. I went into-"

"_Please_!" Ron stopped her. "For one night...no work? Just this evening?"

She nearly pouted.

"I'll listen to you in the morning, but not now."

"Alright. You're absolutely right. Come on, then! I've been on my feet all day and I'm _hungry_." She made her eyes bulge to make sure he had understood just how hungry she was.

"Well, our reservation is about to run out so we'll have to hurry."

She twirled her wand deviously and grinned. "God I love Apparition!"


	9. 8: Cataclysm

**Chapter eight: Cataclysm**

"Has it had any effect? The introduction, did it work?"

"For God's sake Blaise, baby steps! We need to go slow. He's already suspicious and we need him to come along of his own free will. We can't barge in there and just take him. The baby didn't sway him much, he doesn't appear to have those inherent fatherly feelings you were hoping for. And now the Mudblood's interferring too. She suspects something. She's smart, she'll find something. She's not letting go of this."

"So get her out of the way. How much of a problem could she be to take care of. We need him here as soon as possible. The Dark Lord is getting impatient and so am I. It's taking too long."

"Very well. We'll take care of her."

* * *

"Are you going to hurry up or what?" he teased through the locked door.

"Yeah yeah," she muttered.

Trying to put mascara on neatly was difficult enough without someone timing you while you were doing it. She pulled back from the mirror, satisfied with the effort and shoved the mascara back in her bag. Ron had been the sweetest she had ever seen him. Picking her up from work, reserved seats at a restaurant and now surprise tickets to a play as well!

She loved plays and she knew he knew, but she had never actually expected him to take her to one. Too bad the unexpected rain had spoiled her hair and make-up, she thought as she gave herself another critical look. She looked good for someone who had run halfway through the city during a storm.

"Listen, the actors aren't going to wait with their first act because you're still in the loo," he said again.

She wrinkled her nose at him through the door and finally stepped out.

"W-Where did you get that dress from!" he gawked confused.

"Don't you just love being magical," she whispered. "Come on, let's find our seats."

He nodded with a dazed smile and clasped her arm around his.

"You look amazing," he said as he pecked her cheek.

"And you _are_ amazing," she whispered back. "Now shush. It's starting."

* * *

"Pansy, darling. It's late. Shouldn't you be going. You've got more to do today."

"Oh, let it go, love. It's not as if we're on a tight schedual here. We've got time. And I know how I would like to spend it," she said seductively.

But her lustful flirtations were brushed off impatiently. "Later. First you'll do your duty. Do what you promised. And leave _him_ here, you've no need for him this time."

"I'm not leaving him in this dump. Not with you. His father's keeping an eye on him tonight. So it's just you and me all night. Better think of something for us to do by the time I get back or you're not getting anything from me."

She got to her feet and walked away with a determined sway of the hip.

* * *

"Harry! Come on! We've got to hurry up. He can't keep her out _all_ night."

Harry panted, pausing halfway down the stair, leaning the heavy box he was carrying on one of the steps. "Ginny, I know you want to help your brother, but this was not what I had in mind when you asked me if we could spend some time out of the house together."

She smirked. "Well, what you have in mind and what I say hardly ever mean the same thing. Just one more box and we can go home."

Harry sighed and nodded. He knew better than to argue with his wife when she had a plan like this. He lifted the box again to proceed down the stairs.

"What's in this anyway?"

"Candles. Lots and lots of candles."

Harry rolled his eyes over the top of the box and sighed again. "And what exactly _is_ this plan of yours? To set their house on fire?"

"Well it'll certainly have a nice glow when they come back. Oh, just stop whining already. You're doing your brother-in-law a favour. He wouldn't have asked us for some help if he didn't think it was necessary," Ginny said merrily. "He just wants to spend some romantic time with Hermione. Is that so bad? They've both been really busy, they need this to relax. Besides, when was the last time you did something like this for me?"

He knew she was teasing him, but he snarled all the same. "Let's just finish up, okay? Perhaps I've got a little surprise for you at home that's been waiting there for hours."

She turned around and looked at him surprised. "...Really?"

He grinned. "Like I'm going to let your brother out-charm me. I know how to do sweet things too, you know."

She blew him a quick kiss. "I guess I'd better hurry up then."

With a flick of her wand all the candles flew from the box he was holding, nearly causing him to topple backwards, and found themselves a place in the room. With another flick all of them started to burn brightly.

"I think that will do," she said with a satisfied grin. "Don't want to overdo it. Come on, then. I want my surprise."

Harry took her hand and walked out the front door. "Alright, if you insist-"

"Well well, what have we here," a long drawn voice said.

Harry froze and stopped in his tracks. "Ginny, get back inside!"

* * *

"Ron," she whispered. "I've got to go to the bathroom...Can you watch my purse?"

He took it silently with a frown on his face as he tried to understand what was going on on stage. He loved Hermione very much, but he would never understand her love for Muggle plays.

'Trying to create magic where there is none, waste of time,' he thought dully, not sharing his father's fascination at all.

Hermione edged past him and found her way to the corridor outside. She let out a soft sigh. It was so hot in there. She pulled her dress straight and looked around for a sign to point her to the lavatory. She saw a young man at a receptiondesk and hurried towards him.

"Excuse me," she said with a polite smile. "I was hoping you could help me. I'm looking for-"

"You won't need to be looking for anything soon," he said sharply as he turned around.

She recognised him immediately and backed away. "...Nott..."

"Surprised you remember me. Am I supposed to be charmed?" he said coolly. "Now come with me unless you-"

"I'll do no such thing! What are you going to do. Hex me? _Here_?"

He smiled nastily. "Don't tempt me."

She looked around nervously. Her wand was still in her purse and she had left that with Ron. Wasn't there anywhere she coud hide, anything she could duck behind? She cursed her eveningdress for being so long she couldn't run in it. If there was just a way she could call Ron!

* * *

"Ginny, get back into the house!"

"But wh-"

"Don't ask, girl. Your husband tells you to," a voice said coldly. "So now I see who calls the shots in your marriage."

Ginny looked around, finding herself cornered with her back to the wall. Four wands were pointed at her. She looked at Harry, who tried to back away from them so he could shield her.

"Go back inside. Dive if you have to. Just reach for your wand and get out of here," he whispered.

She wanted to object but couldn't as she was pushed backwards suddenly. Stumbling over the threshold of the house, she fell onto the hard wooden floor. Not thinking, but doing as she had been told, she reached for her wand and Disapparated. She'd have to trust Harry on this one...He knew what he was doing, right?

But she couldn't help noticing the sudden eary dark cloud through the window the second she disappeared.

* * *

Hermione eyed the boy with the wand in front of her. It was obvious he had the upperhand in the situation. She was hardly in a position to object to anything he said. She let her eyes travel down to the floor.

'Not even a rug,' she thought desperately, hoping to escape the way Muggles kept doing in movies.

She looked back at him defeatedly. Without her wand, she was powerless.

"Fine," she said coarsely.

He flicked his wand, wordlessly making clear that she needed to start moving towards the door. He followed her closely, just keeping enough distance so it wouldn't look too suspicious. When she set one foot on the wet cobblestones outside the theatre, she halted.

"Keep moving," he hissed, steering her into the direction of a darkened alley across the street.

Hermione kept her eyes on the ground, almost expecting a spell or an incantation to hit her from behind. The footsteps behind her stopped and she stopped too, not daring to turn around and piss him off.

"Aren't you frustrated?" the boy drawled. "Bested by someone less acknowledged, less accomplished than you?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. If she was going to be harmed or killed, she wouldn't want to have entertained him in any way.

"Not talkative? Oh well, that doesn't really matter. I suppose you wouldn't want to dignify me with an answer."

"Why don't you just get on with it," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "If you're going to kill me, then do so. Don't attempt to bore me to death with some monologue."

"Stupefy!"

The cry came sooner than she had expected, believing he would still have tried to boast some more. What surprised her even more was that she could still move, that she hadn't been hit by the spell at all. But what had surpirsed her the most was that the voice had been a female one.

She threw herself to the side and snapped around, staring a frozen Theodore Nott in the face. From behind him, Ginny appeared.

"Hermione, we've got to get back! Harry!"

Hermione followed the redhead dazed, stumbling past Nott clumsily. "Wait! We need to get Ron first, he's still inside! And he's got my wand!"

"But we need to get to Harry!" Ginny screamed loudly. "We were attacked and-"

"First Ron," Hermione said, forcing herself to be calm and think. "Without Ron's and my wand we can't do a thing. And what about _him_? We can't leave a frozen body here in a Muggle alley, people will see."

"That spell will lift on its own. Where is Ron?"

"He's still in the theatre...We can't barge in there!"

"You don't have to!" said a male voice, obviously panting from running. "What are you doing _here_? And why is Ginny here?"

Without answering, Hermione snatched her purse from him and turned its inside onto the ground to find her wand.

"How did you know to come and find me?" she asked Ron once she had found it.

"You hadn't come back...and even you don't need twenty minutes to go to the loo."

"Come _on_!" Ginny yelled impatiently. "We've got to go! Now!"

And before they could stop her, she had Disapparated again.

"They were at our place," Ron said as he grabbed Hermione's hand and Disapparated the second after his sister.

When they reappeared in the garden of their home, they were just in time to hear Ginny scream. Fear filled Hermione's heart as she realized that the Dark Mark was hovering above their roof. Ron rushed past her and ran inside to find his sister crouching next to a body stretched out on the floor.

"Is he..."

"He's stunned, I think," Ginny sniffed.

For the smallest moment in time, she had thought he was dead, but the beating of his heart had put her at ease. Hermione edged her way into the room too.

"How many people were there?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know...a few, I don't remember..."

"Then let's get him to St. Mungo's. We need to know what happened to him."

And quietly she wondered why he had been left alive at all.


	10. 9: Truth Will Out

**Chapter nine: Truth Will Out**

"Don't worry, mrs Potter. Your husband will be well taken care of," a young Healer said as he tried to ease Ginny away from the hospital bed without causing a fuss.

Ginny, however, stared at him angrily. "If you lot don't figure out what spell they used on him I'll be happy to experiment with a few spells of my own on your interns. That ought to give us some testsubjects, wouldn't it?"

She stormed off and found a chair in the waitingroom to occupy. Harry had been in the hospital an entire day now and still no one knew what he was suffering from. And since he was still in a coma he wasn't able to help them along either.

Ron, who had been waiting near the coffeemachine for his sister to come back, walked over to her and leaned against the wall.

"Still nothing, then?"

"No," she hissed. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"My job, actually. They want to know what happened to their best protegé at the Ministry so they sent me over."

Ginny sighed. "Why were they there? It wasn't even our house! It was at _your_ place." She sounded as if she was trying to accuse him of having something to do with it.

"Listen," he said softly. "It's practically a miracle that he's still alive after he faced those Death Eaters all alone. You know that. So why not just be happy he survived at all."

"Yes, another thing I just can't figure out.." she continued bluntly. "How come that when they at last have him outnumbered and they can kill him for their master, all they do is stun him? It doesn't make any sense!"

Ron nodded slowly. "...Unless they weren't expecting him...It was at our place, not yours...Perhaps he wasn't a target at all. So that could mean they were looking for something else....or-"

"Somebody else," Ginny interjected. "And I think I know who and why."

* * *

Draco opened his eyes slowly and waited for them to focus on the object that was moving around above his head. The object appeared to be someone's arm. Turning his head to the side slightly, he tried to get a glimpse of the face that went with the arm. It turned out to be a pretty familiar face, too.

"Hey..." he said softly.

Hermione started. "Oh, hey...I thought you were asleep."

"Well, I was. But then you woke me up."

She smiled, but it was an empty smile that didn't reach her eyes. In fact, she seemed a little distant all together. As if her mind was somewhere else.

"It's been a while, hasn't it," he said, trying to get her to talk. "Last time you left quite suddenly."

"I've been busy since then. Things happened," she answered with the distant voice he had expected.

She not only seemed distracted, but tense as well.

"What happened?" he asked.

"...A friend got hurt...because of me," she said quietly.

She bit her lip, thinking of the stolen file she had hidden in her locker. She had been thinking about it ever since the accident had happened and her conclusion was that those attackers had been after the file, or herself. Maybe even after the book she had stowed away.

And that thought alone brought along the fear of Ron finding out all of this was her fault. Not to mention that she was afraid more people would come after her again.

"Is he okay?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "I suppose so."

"That's good...Hey...I'll bet you you didn't know I was a father before yesterday. Nor did I," he added sourly.

"No I didn't," she admitted. "But about that-"

"Hermione! Harry woke up!" Ron shouted down the corridor.

Without finishing her sentence, she dropped her work and stormed off, shouting half an apology over her shoulder to Draco.

Annoyed by being so ignored, he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and followed her as fast as his slow feet would let him. By the time he had arrived at the room all the fuss was coming from, he found a pack of curious medi-witches blocking the door. A red-headed woman threw them all disgusted glances as she held the hand of the man in the bed.

'Harry Potter,' he remembered; Granger's friend who had come by before.

He silently pushed his way through the crowd and into the room without being noticed. Backing quietly into the shadowy corner behind the opened door, he watched the scene at the bed.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered coarsely.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked quickly, squeezing Harry's hand a little harder.

He smiled sleepily and tried to sit up a little more, but because Ginny was not about to let go of his hand he had to stay the way he was.

"Well...that wasn't the surprise I had in mind," he joked while looking at his wife.

She had averted her face, not at all appreciating Harry's attempt at lifting her mood. "Stop being funny, Harry. It's not a laughing matter."

"Ron, tell your sister I'm fine, will you?" Harry said tiredly.

But the red-head named Ron shook his head and took a step back. "I'm not getting in the middle of marital strife just yet," he eyed Hermione with a wink and returned his attention to Harry. "I'm just happy you're awake again. You really scared us for a while."

"Which brings us to something important," Ginny said in a low angry voice. "I want to know- Look, can you get those attentionseekers out of here?"

She eyed the medi-witches at the door dangerously. Hermione threw them a dirty glance and one by one they disappeared from sight while sulking. Draco retreated into the shadows behind the door even more, intrigued by the discussion.

"What I want to know," Ginny continued, "is _why_ you're still alive. Not that I want you dead, but don't you find it a bit odd that the Death Eaters, whose job it is to capture you so you can be killed, left you on the floor practically undammaged?"

Ron looked at his sister. "Don't you start this again, Ginny!" he said warningly. "I know you're a smart girl but this theory of yours is mad."

"No it's not! You have no clue, do you! Your lovely fiancée's been messing about in Malfoy's affairs and the next thing we know your house was under attack! Don't you find that even a little bit suspicious?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. So she had a fiancé. And what the hell did the other girl mean by 'Malfoy's affairs'?

"But she quit doing that! She promised me she'd give up on it!" Ron looked at Hermione hoping she would back him up.

"Well...Ron, I-"

She bit her lip.

"In my locker...I have a book Harry gave me and a file I stole from the hospital register..." She looked away. "I just had to find out! It was all just too strange, it wasn't right! Pansy Parkinson came in with a child and claimed it was his and I didn't trust it! Doesn't he have the right to know whether the child was really his?"

Ron's face slowly started to glow red. "You couldn't leave it alone? Why, Hermione! Why do you care! Does it mean anything to you whether Malfoy is a dad or not? It has nothing to do with you! You shouldn't even care whether he's alive or dead."

"But it's my job to ensure a patient's safety..." she said weakly. "A patient without memories and then claimed to be someone's father? If no one found out the truth he would have been as ignorant as a lamb to the slaughter!"

Ginny rose to her feet, ready to start shouting. "So your childhood bully's truth is more important than our lives? How dare-"

"Sit down, Ginny," Harry said forcefully.

Ginny looked at him, puzzled, but did as he said.

"When I became an auror I knew these things could happen. These things have been happening all my life! I'm not easily shocked. But what I would like to know is what knowledge it was that nearly cost me my life. What did you find out, Hermione, that they were so eager to take you out?"

"The kid's name was registered but it's not Malfoy. Or Parkinson for that matter."

Suddenly Draco felt angry. The kid wasn't in his name?

"What do you mean, it's not Malfoy or Parkinson!" he yelled as he stepped out of his sheltered corner.

The four people at the bed stared at him, confused he was even there. None of them had seen him entering.

"He's registered as Nox Goyle," Hermione said quietly. "Son of one Tracey Davis and Gregory Goyle, one of your friends from Hogwarts."

"Oh, great!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "More friends I don't remember. And no one seems to be telling me the truth about anything! What the hell is going on? She told me she's a friend, but she lied! And so did you!"

He eyed Hermione angrily.

"You said all of us here were friends but I find that _very_ hard to believe now I've seen what this lot really thinks about me! Just what the hell is going on!"

Ginny had finally wresteled herself free fom Harry's tight grip and strode towards Malfoy before anyone could stop her, staring straight into his eyes.

"Nice bandadging, Hermione. Especially the one on his left arm," she sneered. "You want to know the truth, Malfoy? Then let me show you some truth."

She scratched at the bandadge frantically with her sharp fingernails and tore it from his arm, ripping it as more unraveled.

"Why don't you admire that lovely tatoo of yours up close a little, hmm?"

Draco looked into her eyes, worried by the fierceness of her look. Slowly he followed her glance until his eyes landed on the black skull on his arm. Not more than a second later, his knees buckled as his head flooded with a painful brightness that made him feel dizzy and he hit the floor.


	11. 10: Truce

**Chapter ten: Truce**

"It's not acting, alright? He's really out."

"Well, I've seen him pretend more than just a fainting fit back at Hogwarts so you never know."

"Ron, stop it. Just because you're angry with me doesn't mean you can spit venom at everyone else," Hermione said.

"Do you really think it's wise to put his bed in here?" Ginny asked. "I mean, he and Harry never were on friendly speaking terms."

"I think it's a good idea. They might have a lot to talk about. And besides, this way Harry can keep an eye on him and his visitors," Hermione said touchily.

"Do _I_ get a say in this?" Harry asked loudly. "Not that I prefer loneliness, but Malfoy…well, let's just say that it's a different story with him..."

"Shouldn't there be someone at his door permanently? A guard of something...Didn't they send an Auror or someone from the Academy, or the Ministry?"

"Not likely," Ron said to his sister. "Budgets are tight as it is. As long as Harry is breathing normally they can't afford to be too worried about him. They're counting on himself as his best guard. 'He's had worse', they said."

Draco opened one eye and looked at them. They all seemed to be a bit more than just a face with a name attached, now. He groaned, causing them all to swerve their attention to him.

"You up, then?" Ginny asked roughly.

"Apparently," he remarked dryly. "Aren't you worried I'm dangerous to your precies wonderboy over there?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You seem unexpectedly like your old self. What happened, falling down triggered your memory, did it?" he said sarcastically.

"Your sense of wit hasn't improved much over the years, Potter. But that's to be expected when you keep hanging around the same pack of idiots all your life," Draco said painstakingly as he rubbed his temple with an agonized look.

"At least my friends don't lie and stab me in the back. Wasn't Parkinson _your_ girlfriend?"

"Oh, a low blow!" Draco responded mockingly. "Never expected you to stoop to my level. But at least get your facts straight, she was _never_ my girlfriend. Not for lack of her trying, though."

Hermione bent down a little and looked into his eyes as if she was examining him. "You do seem sure of your own facts...Did you really just remember that or are you possibly just covering up shame?"

Draco pushed her away. "Stop touching my face, Mudblood. I'll probably get an allergic reaction..."

"He _seems_ to be the old Malfoy we all know and despise," Ron said, leaning against the wall. "I wonder what happened."

"I'm pretty sure I preferred the confused and lonely, memory-less Malfoy to this cocky bastard," Ginny sneered.

"Malfoy, just tell me. Do you remember anything from before coming to the hospital or not."

Draco looked at Hermione, and after a moment he turned his head away. "I don't think that's any of your business, Granger, whether you are a Healer or not. You've been meddling in my business enough for now. I'll let you know when I feel up to sharing."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and huffed. "I only had your best interest at heart, Malfoy. That's what Healers do."

"Oh yeah? Did you have my best interest at heart when you tried to make me believe all of us were old pals from Hogwarts?"

"So you do remember something," Hermione said triumphantly. "Can you tell us what happened to you before you were brought here?"

"I _told_ you, I'll tell you when I feel up to sharing. Now will all of you please leave, I have things to do."

"Whatever, ferret-boy. Just keep in mind you're lucky you're in a hospital. Otherwise it would have been straight off to Azkaban with your pale furry butt. Come on Ginny, Ron. Let's leave these two to acclimatize to each other."

Ginny threw Harry a quick glance before Hermione ushered her out of the room. Ron followed them slowly. He turned around and opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but he changed his mind the last second and closed the door quickly on his way out.

Draco stared from the closed door over to Harry in the bed opposite him and rolled his eyes.

"It's not exactly my idea of a good time to share a room with you either, you know," Harry said coolly.

"Then I suggest we ignore each other. That should keep us both happy," Draco sneered.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Alright then."

"Will you shut up?"

"...Fine."

"Arhg!"

* * *

"I want a word with you, Hermione!" Ron hissed when he had caught up with the girls.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into one of the smaller corridors. She looked at him, angry that he was hurting her. But the furious look in his eyes stopped her from fidgeting.

"I didn't want to say this in front of Harry and Ginny, but I am really angry with you! You _promised_ me to stop messing about with this stuff because I didn't want you to get tangled up in something you couldn't handle. You promised me! And I trusted you! And now I have had to endure my little sister lecturing me about you and then I told her to stop lying because I believed your promise. You've turned me into a liar."

"Ron, first of all, let go of me. I'm not having this conversation with you when you're hurting me," she said icily.

Reluctantly he released her arm.

"I know what I promised and I'm sorry I didn't hold myself to it, but I had a good reason, Ron! He was being conned! I just felt something was wrong!"

He rolled his eyes. "I don't get you," he growled. "For years he has been mean and hurtful to you. What happened that all of a sudden this git is _so_ important to you that you feel when he's- A relationship is built on trust, Hermione. And I don't think there's much trust between the two of us if you can manage to break a promise to me for the likes of _him_!"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that apparentally we don't have that serious a relationship, judging by your actions. And if the relationship isn't that important, then I don't see any reason for us to get married!"

It had happened so fast that he hadn't even seen it coming. The only hint he had as to what had actually happened was a burning cheek where her hand must have hit him. He looked at her with a mixture of shock and surprise, to find tears welling up in her eyes.

She was doing her best to keep them in and bit her lip in an attempt to calm down. When neither of them spoke, she snapped around and ran off. Still holding his hand to his burning cheek, he stepped out of the corridor slowly and leaned against the wall.

"You know..." Ginny's voice sounded from behind him "When I noticed you two sneaking off, I expected to find you snogging somewhere. I didn't expect the typhoon of words that carried all the way down the hall."

He looked at his sister blankly. She sighed at his dazed expression.

"You never get it right when you're angry, do you. I know she wasn't being honest, but she didn't deserve what you just did either."

"Well who asked you," he snapped. "I haven't got time for this, I'll see you later."

* * *

Hermione stared angrily at the dark contents of the mug in front of her. Usually she drank coffee, she only chose hot chocolate when she felt horrible. And she felt horrible right now. Ron was being _so_ unfair, she felt. She had tried to explain the situation and he just hadn't listened to her properly.

"As if I was being unreasonable," she muttered. "I'm sure anyone would have done the same in my position."

"Not _everyone_ though," someone said behind her.

She turned around. "What are you doing here? You should be in bed."

"As if I could endure sharing with Saint Potter."

Hermione snorted. "I hoped you two would find a way to get along for the sake of peace. Even if it was only a truce..."

He sat down at the table. "And I bet you hoped I would spill my guts to him about what happened, now I've got my memory back?"

"A little," she admitted.

He sighed. "Look Granger, I appreciate what you did for me. And...I suppose I'm also grateful that you tried to give me memories that weren't real."

"I though that if your old friends could harm you like that, you might be in need of some new ones. Perhaps I should have thought it through some more."

"It was a nice gesture at any rate...even though it was misplaced," he ran his hand through his hair. "I just...I just don't understand why you were so dedicated to helping me. I've never been nice to you. I'm a Death Eater and you're Potter's friend. Why on earth would you spend your time aiding me?"

She stirred her hot chocolate carefully and kept her eyes fixed on the mug. "I don't really know either. At first, when I found out you had no memory, I thought I could get you to join our side. But that would have been immoral, wouldn't it. And then, when I researched your injuries a little more...what I found was so horrible...And then Pansy showed up and I just couldn't get myself to believe that you had ended up marrying her, or that you were the father of that baby she was hauling around. It all seemed...too fake."

He hesitated, but then took her hand. She started and noticed a small blush creep to her face.

"Granger...will you please tell me what you found? About my injuries? I need to know whether I was being used..."

She nodded. "If you believe my answers then I will. I found that...runes like the scars on your chest were used centuries ago to invoke magic of huge power. Celestial magic, you might call it. But those runes were never used on the vessel that was be...sacrificed."

Suddenly he rammed his fist on the table.

"I knew it," he hissed. "Those bastards! Only because I failed...Punishment for my shortcomings."

She gasped. "You knew? You knew what they were going to do to you? Then why did you stay?"

"It's not like I had much of a choice!" he snarled. "They came to me, saying that the Dark Lord was going to reward me with some ritual to pay me honour. I found it unconvincing but didn't have enough reason or opportunity to run. Punishment can consist of a lot of things, you know. I never expected to be used as a sacrificial animal! I'm Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake. You don't sacrifice _me_!"

He stood up and started pacing around the room.

"But how come...I always wondered," she started quietly, "how come you ended up here?"

"Alive, you mean? Well, something obviously went wrong, didn't it Granger. Merlin, I thought you were supposed to be smart. I can't tell you _how_ I got here. All I know is waking up in a white bed, while I don't remember going to sleep in it."

Suddenly Hermione gasped. "Parkinson! She was so eager to take you home! You can't go with her, they'll do it all over again! They don't know you remember, now."

"But they do know that you know, correct? That's why Potter's my roommate all of a sudden. He got injured during an attack, he told me. I'll bet that's why you and Weasley are butting heads so much as well. You know it's not good to marry someone when you're angry at each other all the time."

"Who says I'm going to marry him..." she muttered quietly, trying to ignore the tears begind her eyes. "I don't like you poking around in my personal life, Malfoy."

"Just repaying the favor," he remarked smugly.

She stood up and opened the door of the Healers' break room.

"I'm going to walk you back to your room," she said stiffly. "You shouldn't be up and I don't know why I've been talking so openly with you. I hardly know if I can trust you."

He walked out obediantly and followed her through the door of his hospital room. Before she could leave, he grabbed her hand softly, again causing colour to wash across her face.

"Just one thing," he said before letting her go. "Do you honestly think I would go back and support the people who wanted to kill me? That I'd trust those who had betrayed me? Think about that, will you Granger?"


	12. 11: Safeguards

**AN: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review! We've just passed the point of no return :P We're in the second half of this story now. If you like it, don't feel too shy to leave a message ;)**

Chapter eleven: Safeguards

"...Ron? Are you still awake?"

Hermione turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. He was snoring softly, but with him you never could tell whether he was pretending of not.

"Ron?"

He had already gone to bed when she had come home that night. All the lights had been switched off, the doors locked. She had been trying to fall asleep for the last hour or so but she couldn't stop thinking and worrying.

What if he had meant what he had said that day? What if he really did think they shouldn't be getting married? Where would that leave them?

She sighed and turned back on her side, listening to the calm breathing rhythm Ron was producing beside her. She closed her eyes forcefully, while, behind her, Ron's eyes opened slowly. Continuing his slow and steady breathing, he kept quiet and stared at the wall.

He didn't dare move because then she'd know he was awake, that he had heard her but said nothing. All night he had been sitting on the couch, waiting for her to come home. He had been thinking of things to say to her. But she hadn't come home before twelve...and he had felt more and more hesitant and nervous about what to say.

So in the end he had gone to bed and waited to hear the key in the lock so he'd know when to close his eyes and be quiet. He had never felt more guilty towards her. Ginny's words kept repeating themselves in his head.

'_She didn't deserve what you just did.'_

He started when he suddenly felt a hand seek to touch his. He started debating whether he should respond but she retreated her hand almost immediately when he didn't react.

'Damn.'

But there was nothing he could do about it now. If he did something now, she'd be even more upset that he had ignored her, he reasoned. So, instead of turning around, he just closed his eyes again. They could talk about it in the morning.

* * *

"Good morning."

He opened his eyes slowly.

"Morning...what are you doing here so early?" he asked grumpily, eyeing his watch. "It's...only six a.m."

"Well, I have a lot to do," she answered back airily. "Paperwork, you know what I mean."

Harry gave her an enquiring look. "You've got paperwork? At six in the morning?"

"Yes, I do," she snapped. "And I don't want to talk about it anymore. How are you getting along with Malfoy?"

"Well," he said slowly, "let's just say that he's still his old self, feeling superior and arrogant. But he has his good moments."

"Like what?"

"Like when he's asleep. Napping takes away his insulting abilities. And he does that quite a lot."

She smiled vaguely. "Well, let me know when there's a problem. He seemed alright when he talked to me last night."

Harry took her hand. "Before you go...You know you can talk to me if _you_ have a problem, right?"

She shook his hand off and laughed airily. "A problem? I have no problem. Well, I'd best be off. Samuels is showing me around the ward for unfortunate transfigurations. They've got a guy who's nose got turned into a tea spout after his little daughter needed a pot for her teaparty. I'll see you later."

"Talking about Samuels...Have you told him Malfoy's got his memory back? How long can you keep him here when he's healthy again? You can't use this as a safehaven for him forever."

"I'm not using this as a safehaven, Harry. I'm simply doing my job by taking care of a patient."

"Yeah well, I'm doing my job when I'm trying to prevent my two best friends from ruining their relationship over something stupid," he retorted, his voice slowly rising.

"So you think Death Eaters are stupid? That I'm being stupid when I do what I'm trained to do?" her face started to turn the colour of Ron's hair.

"No, but it's stupid to let someone else's problems take over your life. Before Malfoy came through the doors of this building, you two were great! Apart from Molly trying to run everything, your lives were right on track. But now...Ginny overheard the two of you arguing. I know Ron can be a hothead, but I thought you were used to that by now...This is getting to both of you more than it should. Even in school you two weren't this explosive."

"We're fine," Hermione said stiffly.

"You coming in before six in the morning isn't fine. Not even for you. I'll bet you two didn't even talk it over. Go home, Hermione. Call in sick and go home to sort things out. This isn't worth it."

"I just want to solve this. There's something utterly wrong and I want to help."

"But this isn't as simple as Charms problems. You can't solve this with the notes you took in class. 'Solving' isn't the word you're looking for."

"Well solving things is what I'm good at, Harry. So if you want to let me keep my hopes up for this situation to go back to the way it was, you'll let me use 'solve'. Now turn over, I've got to check those gashes in your shoulder."

Harry turned on his stomach willingly and tried to breath with his nose pressed down in his pillow. After she was done she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"You know...For the first time in my life I'm stuck. I want to marry Ron, I want to stop putting you in danger and I want to...help Malfoy. But those three things apparently can't coexist. And I don't know whether to drop one, or to handle them all, one at a time."

Harry made a muffled sound before lifting his head from the pillow and turned on his back again. "I can't tell you what to do."

Hermione turned her face away and eyed the blond who was still asleep in his bed across the room.

"Yeah, I know." She heaved a big sigh, clapped her hands to her knees and got to her feet. "Well, I'd best start on my rounds. See you, Harry."

He watched her leave the room slower than she usually would have done, but neither of them could manage to form any more words so the door closed behind her hesitantly, leaving Harry behind in silence. He rubbed his face with his hand, knowing he probably shouldn't have let her leave like that. Then again, butting in too much would probably be a bad idea. Ron's temper would be more than he could handle while he was still bedridden.

"Trouble in paradise?" Malfoy called from the other side of the room.

Harry started. "How long have you been awake?" he asked suspiciously.

"Long enough," Draco said casually.

There was a silence again for a moment while they avoided looking at each other.

"Well!" Draco said suddenly. "If you're not going to talk to her, I suppose I'll have to."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You? I don't think you should," he said, stressing each word.

"Like I'm going to listen to you. I'm not going to talk to her because I like it. It's not like I derive pleasure from speeking to her. This is business. So if you'll excuse me..."

He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and checked his hair in the reflection of the window. Harry sighed and shook his head. That boy would never lose his ego.

* * *

"What's that you're reading?"

Hermione started. She hadn't known someone was looking at her.

"You've been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes now. You're getting boring to watch."

Hermione tried to shape her mouth into a smile. "Just some book from a library," she said evasively. "A friend got it for me."

Healer Samuels took the seat next to her and took a peek over her shoulder. "Ancient sacrificial incantations? Not exactly a light read in my book. But I suppose everything is a light read to you. Interesting choice of topic though."

Hermione looked away. She knew that Samuels wasn't dumb. He probably knew why she was reading this. But she didn't understand why he wasn't making any objections, like everybody else had done.

"Look, miss Granger. It's not my place to involve myself in a trainee's personal affairs. So I won't impose my view on you. But I'll only stress that too close a bond to one's patients can be...a nuissance. Either to the Healer or to the patient. So keep an open mind and take to the exit when you know your role has been fullfilled."

"Quit while you're ahead, you mean sir?" she asked in a disappointed tone of voice.

He shook his head and smiled as he got up. "No. Just mind those boundaries."

When he left, she was confused. She didn't really understand what he had meant. Did he mean she should stop after her job as a Healer was done, had he told her to stop like all the others wanted her to stop?

Strangely, it hadn't sounded like that at all. She turned her attention back to the book but sighed. Even if she wanted to do more than just her job, it was pointless to keep trying if she couldn't get some decent information.

The file she had nicked from the hospital told her nothing more than that Malfoy wasn't the father of little baby Nox. And the book Harry had given her was so old that it was hardly legible. Besides, all the incantations and rituals described in it didn't seem to be the same as the one Malfoy had carved across his body. The markings were different, even if it was just a little bit, and this meant she was absolutely stuck. As long as she didn't know what the ritual had been for, she was lost.

If the used ritual was a home-made one, it could mean she might never find out the truth on her own. And with everyone working against her she was feeling inclined to give up anyway.

"How's your research going?" someone whispered in her ear.

She jumped up and had her wand ready when she realised it was Malfoy.

"What are you doing, sneaking up here all the time. This is the staff room and you're a patient."

"So send me away. But it seems to me, you could use some help and you probably won't get that from anyone but me. After all, I'm the only one who's keen to reveal the spell you're so desperately trying to analyze."

"You- you remember? Only, when you wouldn't tell me before I assumed you didn't want to admit that you couldn't remember," she said shocked.

"Well, you don't get sacrificed every day. You tend to pay attention," he remarked dryly. "Shall we discuss this here or someplace else?"

"We need to stay within the hospital. These walls are pretty good safeguards. Come on, we'll use the caretaker's closet."


	13. 12: Storm

**Chapter twelve: Storm**

"Comfy," he remarked when she stumbled into the closet, nearly knocking him over. "Nice and cosy."

She closed the door and turned around, trying to ignore that her nose was touching his as she was trying to find herself some space. He grinned. She couldn't have selected this place just because it was so cramped. That wasn't her style. But who was he to complain. She tried to move around him and had to hold on to his waist to make sure she didn't walk into him again.

"Stop groping me, Granger. That's not why we're here."

"Why would I want to grope you." she said defensively. "Just get on with your story, will you."

"So from the beginning then?"

"Anything you remember would come in handy," she said curtly, still angry about his quip.

"Well don't be disappointed if I don't remember everything. There are some blank spaces. I did actually pass out at some point," Draco said, trying to lean against the wall comfortably without having a mop in his hair.

"Now, why again did we pick a caretaker's closet?"

"Because it's quiet. Now come on, I still have work to do today."

He looked at her. "Would you mind not being so impatient and uncaring when I'm about to share my trauma with you? It did actually hurt, you know. And not just physically."

She sighed. "Alright, then. I'm sorry. Go ahead."

He rubbed his neck and licked his lips thoughtfully. She didn't want to rush him, so she remained quiet. After all, she could barely contain her excitement about being on the brink of being told about this dark magic and she didn't want him to change his mind.

"When they wanted to lure me down to the sittingroom of my parents' house-"

"They held you in your parents' house? But- That's so cruel!" she interjected.

"You don't say. In case you hadn't noticed before, Granger, cruelty doesn't bother these people much. Now you wanted to know, right? So shut up and listen."

She moved about a bit on the upturned bucket she was using as a seat. She was used to him being bossy, but she had somehow expected him to be less so, now that he seemed to need her help. At least he seemed to trust her now. She felt that had to count for something.

"They had been keeping me in my own room, locked up like some criminal. It was punishment for failing the Dark Lord again. I had been sent on a task with my friends so we could prove our worthiness of being his followers. A new generation of followers."

He smirked, startling Hermione.

"I don't have to tell you that we were all, though perhaps them more so than me, eager to succeed. I noticed that my friends were becoming more and more enthousiastic, like their parents were, all at a quicker pace than I was. Perhaps because I had already served him directly, a time before they had been selected..."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that you weren't eager to become a Death Eater."

"Keeping that in mind..." he said, ignoring her remark as best he could. "It wasn't at all strange that I ended up being the one who messed everything up. I was the least focussed and made a stupid mistake, forcing everybody to pull back before the task had been completed. Loyalty was not something I was about to expect or receive from them. When facing the Dark Lord, I already knew they would all point to me. Yet my punishment ended up only being confined to my room."

"Didn't you...find it odd...that you were punished this lightly?" Hermione asked quietly. "I mean, I would have expected more...more of a torturous-"

"Yes I _did_ find it odd," he snapped. "You don't think I was that stupid, do you? I was waiting for the real punishment to begin and then, at last, it came. Pansy and Blaise were arguing in front of my door about who was to give me my dinner that night. He said something about it being her chance to join in. She said it was his penalty and that he would have to face the consequences of his own failure as I would have to. I already guessed then that my supper had been spiked. But I could hardly just stop eating."

"I'm a patient woman, Malfoy. But I've got to show my face on rounds soon. Can't you skip the musings and get to the point?" she interrupted against her better judgement. "It's just that I've only got a few minutes left and my butt is beginnning to ache thanks to the bucket."

"So don't sit down," he said coldly. "I'm sharing my torment with you and you complain about an aching butt? Nice bedside manner. Now shut up and let me continue. Pansy was the one who gave me my supper in the end. My suspicion about the food had been correct because almost immediately after eating it, I somehow trusted her completely when she told me she was going to take me downstairs. I would never have trusted her of my own accord."

"Gregory's Unctuous Unction!" Hermione whispered in awe. "I- it persuades you into believing that the one who gave it to you is your best friend..."

"And you didn't think of giving that stuff to me the moment I showed up in this place? You can't be as smart as I thought."

"Or not as deceitful," she said hurt. "But go on. What happened next?"

"She brought me into the sitting room. Almost everyone was there, hooded and masked. The Dark Lord was waiting. He commanded me to lay down on the table and I couldn't fight it. There were candles strewn all around the room. And..._He_ was holding a knife. It was made of stone, I think. It had runes running all over it."

Hermione shuddered. This was starting to remind her of those ceremonies she had been reading about in Harry's book. Perhaps this had been a celestial blessing after all.

"He mumbled things...I could't understand them but they echoed in my ears as he spoke them. And then the knife started to glow. No-" he interrupted himself. "Not the knife, but the runes on it started glowing. Then, He brought it down to my chest slowly and it touched my skin."

He shivered as he remembered the feel of the tip of that knife touching him. It had been hot and cold at the same time, burning and freezing simultaneously. Hermione saw his face pale as he remembered and couldn't help reaching out to squeeze his hand encouraginly.

"It was hot but cold as well. And when he started to scrape figures with it, digging it into my skin, I fainted. That's all I remember. No, there's one more thing. I remember looking at my mother. She was there too and she looked at me from underneath her hood. She was crying. I think she called out for me…The next thing I remember was being here."

"Draco...that's...I don't know what to say."

"I was hoping you could shed some light on this. That's why I told you. I want to know what they did to me, what I was used for."

"Well," she bit her lip. "like I thought it was...it sounds like a ritual...like a sacrifice."

"I figured as much."

"But, you see...Usually the offering, the lamb, gets his neck sliced open...And it doesn't get marks all over his body...and even then sacrifices like this were always used the envoke celestial blessings, a force of good. Magic drenched in this much goodness would be too much for Voldemort, a surge of goodness this strong could only have brought him indescribable pain. Someone as vile as him could never have succesfully completed the ritual."

Draco sighed. "So I was a tool for him to achieve more power."

"Aren't you listening? He couldn't have handled the sort of power he was aiming for and he should have realised that long before even starting it. But this ritual of his was different from anything I've read about. So much more vicious."

"More vicious than killing outright?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," she snapped. "I think maiming a human being is more vicious and cruel than killing an animal in one stroke. At least that would have been quick. I just can't understand what he'd need more power for."

Draco snorted. "I must be dreaming, you can't really be this dumb. He wants to kill Potter, of course! He can't do that with the power he has now so he needs more. Now just please _think_. Do rituals like this have to follow a certain path or can you change them to suit your needs? Because if that's possible..."

"Then the viciousness of his version could be the key!" she whispered. "Good power is bestowed to those who act mercifully and act quickly in their kill. Perhaps...because he was so much more cruel, the power he tried to summon would be evil enough for him to handle. But then something must have gone wrong. Otherwise he would have tried to get to Harry before now. It must have blown up in his face, failed..."

Hermione was pacing up and down in the closet as well as she could, hoping this would keep her mind going. Suddenly she stopped.

"And that must be how you lost your memory. An explosion. Magic surging around without a goal, running wild because something didn't go right. Perhaps that's why you disappeared from the Manor as well."

Draco opened the closet door. "I think...I need some air."

"Are you alright?"

"...Sure. I just have the feeling...that I was never meant to survive anyway. You say that maiming is more cruel than killing. But even more cruel would be to maim as torture, as an appetizer for actual death. Death and killing have always had an important part in His search for power. Why would this be any different. Why would He make an exception for me, why let me live? Why not just end it while He was at it. I've proven myself worthless two times already."

He passed her quietly and she let him go. What he had just said was confusing. She had always thought that a certain level of loyalty would always be appreciated in Draco's circles. Now it had proven to mean nothing. And his friends had sold him out to save their own skin. So much for friendship.

But what had shocked her most was to have proof of Voldemort finally utilising Ancient Magick, the sort he didn't want to acknowledge at first. And that he had found a way to soil the sacred rituals witches and wizards had always used for good things.

Suddenly fear got hold of her. She had been attacked before for being on the verge of knowing too much. But what would happen now if anyone found out she knew pratically everything there was to know. Would asking him to shut up about it help? At the moment, it was all she could do.

* * *

Draco leaned out the window. The other bed was empty, he was alone this once, and he tried to enjoy it by breathing in the peacefulness it brought along. He watched the wind blow the trees as far as they would bend. It felt like a storm would be heading their way. But he liked the freshness of the wind against his face, it soothed him.

When someone knocked on the door, he pulled his head back inside with great reluctance.

"What?" he snapped as he crawled back under the blankets of his bed. "I'm in my bed again, it's not like I'm wandering around the corridors."

"Draco? Can I come in?" a female voice asked.

"Can I stop you?" he remarked dryly. "Alright, whatever. I just thought-"

The woman opening the door wasn't the one he had thought he was talking to. She smiled tenderly at his confused stare.

"You look well. You must be able to come home soon. Or do you still need time to remember. I'm Pansy, you know that right?"

"...Yes."

"Only, you gave me such an odd look," she giggled. "As if you didn't recognise me anymore."

"Well," he started, "I was just wondering how it would be possible for me to recognise you when you went from being an admiring groupie to backstabbing traitor and a sell-out. It's like I'm only now seeing the real you. Tell me, have you been coming here to try and seduce me so you can betray me again and hand my body over to your Lord, or are you just here to kill me outright without me having to take part in His sadistic ritual? I'm just dying to know."


	14. 13: Ultimatum

**Chapter thirteen: Ultimatum**

"What- what are you talking about?" Pansy gasped. "Why would I want to hurt you? You're the father of my son, I love you!"

He snorted sarcastically. "Yeah...I think you've got me confused with someone else there, darling. I'm the guy you victimized, not your coward boyfriend Blaise. You know, the one who persuaded you to poison me."

"P-poison?"

"Well, maybe not poison," he conceded, as if he was obliging her. "But the outcome would have pretty much the same if you'd succeeded."

He looked at her expectantly, daring her to contradict him. She seemed at a loss for words, struggling with her tongue to utter a sentence, searching for something, anything that could help her.

"You...Darling, you're delusional. They've got you on all those different kinds of medication and it's confusing you, my love. You _must_ know I love you. You saw our child."

"I'll be buggered if you even remember what you tried to sell me what it's called," he mumbled.

She didn't seem to hear.

"Oh, how tired you must be, darling. The endless examinations must be draining you. Let _me _take care of you." She sidled up to the side of the bed and carefully sat down on the edge.

Tentatively she reached out and took his hand.

"There," she whispered soothingly. "See, it's fine. I'm not trying to hurt you. I want to take care of you."

"Oh go sell that crap to someone who'll swallow it. Are you trying to win me over so you can deliver me into His hands again, to serve my head on a platter _again_? Just tell me, I'd like a warning this time before you betray whatever trust you're hoping to implant in me!"

At that second, the door opened and a distracted looking Hermione entered. She was reading a chart and suddenly found herself staring down a dangerous looking finger pointed at her face.

"You!" a female voice screeched.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the violently pink and claw-like nail and looked up.

"You've gone and modified his memory, you brainwashed him! You're making him think horrible things! Malicious lies! I'm reporting you."

Hermione snapped out what had felt like a trance and laughed, surprising Pansy as well as herself.

"Think I'm joking, do you? Think it's funny? Well I'm not laughing Granger, and neither will you once I get my way," Pansy hissed, still pointing her painted nails at Hermione's face.

"Well, I'm sorry but this is one of the funniest things I've ever heard. You accusing me of being unethical, I mean. All I did was heal him, there's nothing immoral about that. Maiming, however, _would_ be considered immoral by most people, but funnily enough, I don't hear you talking about that," she said with a calm nerve, looking back down at her chart as if scanning it for more details she could fling at Pansy. "So...why don't you just leave so I can get on with my job. I could always call in security if you refuse."

She looked back up from her chart innocently, feeling an almost unendurable state of confidence taking a stand inside her.

"I have to be here, stay here! You can't make me leave!" Pansy shrieked. "Not if I don't want to. It's _you_ who should go!"

"Oh, I will," Hermione said with that same innocent expression. "I'm going to go get security. Because I can actually make you leave if a patient wishes it."

She glanced over at Draco, who had been watching the scene up till now with an expression of approval. Hermione decided to ignore it for the moment.

"Oh..." he drawled, letting himself sink back into his pillow. "Yes..I do wish it."

Pansy huffed but slowly got to her feet. She had to admit defeat, albeit grudgingly.

"This won't be the end of this, Granger. You'll get your due, you'll see. You shouldn't have meddled in things you can't handle," Pansy whispered in her ear as she brushed past Hermione on her way out.

Hermione ignored it and kept looking ahead at the bare piece of wall above Draco's head. Once the door finally clicked, signaling Pansy's absence, Hermione's expression darkened.

"What did you say to her?" she asked.

"Nothing more than the truth. I asked her for some answers, that's all."

"You said things to upset her. You let her know you remember, she knows that now."

"I wasn't the only one letting things slip. Did you even hear yourself talking to her? If she even paid the tiniest bit of attention to you, she'll figure out that you know just as much as I do. Luckily she never was a bright girl. You might even be in luck."

"So we both messed up. I came here to ask you, no to warn you not to let anyone know either of us have a clue about what'd happened. But I guess that's futile now. Just...please don't say anything to Ron or Harry. They don't need to know."

Before Draco could answer, the door had opened with a bang. Immediately Hermione pulled her wand out.

"Look, I told you I'd set security on you! Get out!" she snapped as she spun around to face her adversary.

But it hadn't been Pansy this time. It was a very bemused looking Harry. "...I'm sorry, I guess I should have knocked. This _is_ still my room, right?"

He laughed at the sudden change in Hermione's expression.

"Actually, you look quite guilty, Hermione. Like you're caught redhanded with one hand in the cookie jar," he said as he crawled back into bed.

Hermione laughed nervously. "Don't be silly. Just some trouble with a visitor. But she's gone now."

Draco slipped out of bed behind her and briskly headed for the door.

"I fancy a walk," he stated at Hermione's questioning look.

"Just remember what I said. And don't go outside, it's not safe for you," was all she could say.

Draco waved her objections away. "I can take care of myself, Granger. Never you mind. Shouldn't you be talking to your fiancé?"

He closed the door behind him quicly, denying her the chance to object even more.

Hermione slowly walked towards Draco's bed and sat down on the end of it, looking at the sky outside. It was growing darker with big grey clouds. A storm was coming, she thought. Turning her head towards Harry, she saw his merry expression was fading.

"You really do look guilty. What have you been up to?"

She lowered her eyes. "It's nothing to do with you. Not your concern. We've just been talking, that's all."

"It didn't seem like just talking to me. Should I be worried? Should Ron be?"

The look on her face hardened. "I don't know if Ron should be worried. I don't know anything about Ron anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Ron...told me...He was angry and he said that perhaps we shouldn't get married after all."

"_What?_" Harry exploded. "Ron said that? He can't have been serious, he can't have meant it. When did that happen? Ginny never mentioned…"

"He looked serious enough when he said it," Hermione snapped.

"Still, he couldn't have meant it, not Ron," Harry said more subdued now he was calming down.

He sounded airily, as if he thought Hermione was just being silly. He shook his head and waved away her concerns just as Draco had done moments before.

"You said it yourself, he was angry at the time. And when he's like that, he just blurts things out, stuff he doesn't mean."

"Even so," she replied stiffly. "He shouldn't have said it, even if he didn't mean it. _Especially_ if he didn't mean it. It really hurt. And even if he didn't mean it and he wanted to take it back, I'm not sure he could make up for it."

Harry stared at her incredulously. "...You mean..."

"I mean I'm not sure I could marry someone who doesn't trust my judgement and who can hurt me so easily...and so terribly. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd want to."

"And did you plan on telling Ron this? Or are you counting on him to be the one to apologize first. If you are, you're knowingly fighting a lost cause. You know what he's like. Neither of you like to reconcile or to give in first, so neither of you will take the first step."

Harry leaned on his elbows and looked straight at her. He wanted to make sure his point had gotten across.

"And because neither of you will start talking, you'll never tell him how you feel and so he'll never know. And if he doesn't know, then how is he supposed to know what to say to you?"

Hermione jumped up to her feet again. "No one is too stupid to know that 'sorry' might be a good place to start. Not even Ron."

"But does he even realise he hurt you this bad?" Harry continued, trying to ignore her reluctant attitude.

"If he couldn't even think of that, then he's a selfish, pigheaded, blind jerk and I shouldn't marry him at all!"

"...Now it's you who's being pigheaded."

She stared back at him defiantly. "So what if I am? That's how I feel right now. I can't and shouldn't marry someone who runs from fights and responibilities."

"But you've known what he's like since you were twelve years old. He's always been like that. So don't act like he does and be the one to confront him. All couples have fights, married ones and other ones. Some are just a little more fierce about it than others and you've had plenty of time to get used to the level of fierceness of the fights you two have," Harry said calmly.

He could see she was starting to give in. Her angry expressing was softening.

"But...he never ran from big things before," she tried quietly.

"Yes he did," Harry snorted. "Remember the Yule ball? I do. I remember quite the face-off and I wasn't even there during the heated part."

"...Well, he never admitted fault," she said even quieter.

"Perhaps not to you. But he realised it well enough."

"And I suppose I know that too. But it doesn't make up for it."

"So call him over. Get him in a room and talk. Give him a chance to apologize," he said with an encouraging nod. "You'll feel better once you've talked. It's better than living side by side in silence."

She sighed. He was annoyingly correct. Perhaps she should give in and talk to Ron. She certainly didn't want to become as stubborn as he was simply out of spite. So perhaps it _was_ up to her to take the first step. She sighed again.

"You're right. I hate it when you're right."

"I know," he assured her. "And I'll be sure to rub this in your face for years to come. Now get yourself to a fireplace and floo the poor sod. I'm sure he's a mess."

She smiled vaguely as she pulled the door open.

"What would I do without you." she called over her shoulder.

Harry sighed in relief when the door swung shut behind her receding back.

"Wow," he whispered surprised. "I wonder where all that wisdom came from..."

* * *

She knelt down in front of the fireplace in the Healers' room and held a little bit of powder tightly enclosed in her hand. Hesitantly she threw it in and called for the Auror Academy. A slightly balding man answered it.

"Yes?"

"Er, hello. I'm looking for Ronald Weasley?"

The man disappeared without a word and was replaced by Ron's face seconds later.

"Hermione! I'm...glad."

"We need to talk this out, Ron," she said quietly. "I can't go round thinking that you meant what you said if you didn't. Either you tell me the wedding is still on or that we're really over. I need to have some clarity."

"Alright, you want clarity. So how about this. The wedding is about us, not just you. So when you wander off with Malfoy, digging into problems that don't concern you and getting people injured, I worry about _you_ getting injured while I'm being kept out of your life. I don't think that's fair."

Hermione bit her lip. She'd never really thought about it that way.

"I still want to marry you, Hermione, because I love you. I should never have said those things."

"So we're alright?"

"As far as I'm concerned, we are."

She smiled.

"But-" he went on, "I still want you to stay away from-"

"Healer Granger!" a bewildered mediwitch rushed in, capturing Hermione's immediate attention. "One of your patients has gone missing! The young man, blond, in room three. He's disappeared!"

"Malfoy..." she whispered.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted incredulously. "Hermione, you can't. We're talking, fixing our relationship. If you go after Malfoy now...I want you to stay away from him!"

"But he's my patient...He was tortured, Ron. They tried to sacrifice him! I can't abandon him now."

"Haven't you listened to me at all? Haven't you heard a single word I just said to you? You can't be serious...I'm warning you, Hermione. If you leave to go after him, then you've made your choice. We'll be over. Not just the wedding, but everything, you hear me?"

He could almost see her bottom lip trembling as she looked at him.

"I can't let someone be tortured without trying to stop it, Ron...I-"

"You choose him over me? Your childhood bully over your fiancé?"

"What do you want from me! I can't let something this horrible take place and you're just fine with it? I'm not sure I can marry a person who doesn't care about other people's sufferings."

"But he's not your problem! He should have gotten away from those people a long time ago, not just now they've stabbed him in the back. And I don't want to see you getting dragged down with him."

"Healer Granger, what should we do?" the medi-witch urged.

Hermione looked at Ron, then at the mediwitch, then back at Ron. "I'm sorry. But it's my job to care...I really do love you Ron, but I love my job too. And...I have to go now. I'm sorry."

She cast her eyes down and turned away. Ron didn't believe it.

"What? Wait, Hermione! You can't be serious! You can't...Hermione?"

"I'm really sorry, Ron," she whispered distraught. "Truly."

She couldn't bare to look at him over her shoudler, so she tried to block out his voice as she hurried out the room, followed closely by the medi-witch.


	15. 14: The Prodigal Son Returns

**Chapter fourteen: The Prodigal Son Returns**

"Harry, she's gone mad! You have to help me out."

Harry looked up from his book with a frown. "Shh, quiet down. This is still a hospital, Ron."

Ron slammed his hands down on the cafeteria table.

"Listen to me," he hissed. "You don't understand. Hermione's gone crazy."

"What did she do this time? What did _you_ do this time?"

"Nothing! We were talking, making up the fight we'd had, and all of a sudden she ran off!"

Harry closed his book and leaned back in his chair. "What do you mean, she ran off?"

"What I mean," Ron said painstakingly, "is that a medi-witch came in saying Malfoy had vanished and all she could think of was to run out to go find him. She's lost it!"

Harry jumped up and took Ron by his arm, dragging him out the cafeteria.

"Shh! Not everyone here needs to know about Malfoy. Now, what happened? Where did she go?"

Ron shook his head desperately. "I don't know, I don't know. She just ran out the room."

"Well, did she say anything?"

"She said...she said she loved me. But that she also loved her job. And that she was sorry..."

He hung his head, only now feeling just how desperate he was. He was losing her. It was his fault, making her choose on the spot. He had set her an ultimatum he had known wasn't fair. He had hoped that she would pick him…He hadn't counted on her running off. And now, as a result, he was losing her.

"...Harry?" he asked quietly, the sound of tears seeping through his voice. "What if something happens? She could get herself killed...I can't...She can't die! I need her...I need to know she's safe. I don't want to lose her."

"Then we need to go after her," Harry said decisively. "Do we know where she could have gone?"

Ron shook his head. "...No..."

"But she followed Malfoy, who left on his own, right? His parents' house is the only clue we've got so far. Let's get me checked out and we'll pay them a visit."

* * *

The halls were quiet. It unnerved him. It was never this quiet, not even when just he, his mother and father had been living there. But he had decided he would confront everyone and he wasn't going to let a bit of silence ruin it for him. Raising his nose a bit higher in the air, he strode onward.

Entering the library, he was surprised to see the lights were off. He started to feel something was wrong. The light was never off in this room, his father wouldn't have allowed it. He walked towards the drawing room, this time with a more careful tread.

He could hear the soft humming of low voices coming from behind the door and he finally understood why everything was so out of sync. They had been expecting him. They were waiting for him.

He placed the palm of his hand against the wooden door and gathered up his nerve before pushing it open with a smirk on his face.

"Draco…The prodigal son returns…"

"You waited up, how kind. You shouldn't have…"

* * *

"Damn you, Malfoy," she grunted as she tried to tug her cloak from a bush's grasp. "You just couldn't stay put, you just had to run off like a little child. Just wait till I get my hands on you…"

The sky above her head was starting to turn an ominous shade of grey and here and there she felt a drop of rain touching her skin. This day just couldn't get any worse.

She had Apparated as close as she could to the Malfoy family residence, which had ended up being in the middle of a tree-infested area. The second she had landed she had slipped in the mud, falling face down onto the ground.

She wished she had known the Manor was situated right next to a forest. Now she had to fight her way through the trees and bushes and she wasn't even sure Malfoy would be heading here at all. Pansy's presence had upset him, but was it enough to convince him to return to the place of his torture? Perhaps he had just wanted to disappear, she thought hopefully.

But Malfoy wasn't the kind of person who could walk away. He'd want his revenge and he'd try to get it without thinking it through.

She trampled on and finally saw the edifice lurking into view. It was the biggest house she'd ever seen and slowly she started to wonder how the hell she was supposed to sneak in and find one man, rescue him and leave again without being seen.

She realized she herself hadn't thought this through much either. She sighed and urged her feet to move forward anyway. She was here now, she might as well make the most of it and just wait to see what she was up against.

"One bridge at a time," she muttered quietly.

Surprisingly enough she had made it onto the grounds without being detected so perhaps security wasn't as tight as it had been before. She crept up to the wall and took a deep breath. She was getting closer and still she had seen no one.

So far so good.

Taking a look sideways, she spotted a glow of light coming round the corner. That could be a door. Edging it its direction, she prayed she was right.

* * *

"You kept us waiting a long time," the high-pitched voice of Voldemort echoed through the room.

Ignoring him for now, he looked around the room. His parents were sitting in a darkened corner, but even without light he could see they looked tired. His disappearance must have had consequences for them. His mother raised her face and gave him a weak smile.

He looked away and turned to face the man in the middle of the circle.

"You have displeased me," Voldemort said coldly. "You failed me and were to be punished yet I gave you a unique chance. You were granted the honour of dying for me willingly, but you vanished, throwing my kindness back in my face. You will not be given such second chances again, nor such privileges. I have already allowed more from you than from any other."

He barely seemed to nod his head, but he must have, because a girl immediately jumped up and walked forward with a bowed head.

"Take him to a less comfortable prison cell than last time while we prepare for the ritual. I won't allow another mishap."

She nodded silently and took him by the arm, guiding him towards the door. He looked sideways and saw it was Pansy, but she looked far from triumphant. The thin white line of a scar ran across her cheek and her eyes seemed hollow and tired. Even he hadn't imagined how much harm could befall her in the time-span of one day. What normally took months, Voldemort had managed within a heartbeat. She looked broken, as if all her will to live had been drained from her.

Silently he allowed her to take him away from the assembled and he waited till the door was closed till he opened his mouth again.

"What happened to you?" he asked, far less harsh than he had imagined he would talk to her.

She shook her head. "It's not your concern. I wanted to be part of all this, so now I am. And if I fail, I'll have to pay the consequences that come with it. I got off lightly compared to some."

He looked ahead again and noticed she was taking him downstairs instead of upstairs. He hadn't expected them to store him in his old bedroom again like they had done before, but he hadn't expected the slimy cellar either. He could try and escape from her grasp, but there seemed little point. He had come to execute revenge on Pansy and everyone else involved, even on _Him_. But glancing at the gaunt face beside him, he felt his urge to harm her slowly fade away.

There would be time to deal with her later, if he felt like it then. There were others he wanted to deal with more urgently.

"Who do you mean by 'some'?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"…It wasn't really my assignment," she whispered. "It was Blaise's, him and the other boys were supposed to have brought you back. But I insisted to join in and Blaise thought a female touch was the only option we had to lure you away from St. Mungo's. But I messed up, because you remembered everything before we had retrieved you."

"And you were dealt with," Draco said coldly, his sympathy for her fading again as he remembered exactly what she had planned to do.

His momentary lapse of pity didn't make her offences less grave. She would still have to answer for her actions.

"But Blaise had disobeyed the Dark Lord even more than I had done. After all, he had given away his assignment willingly. Even you hadn't done that. Snape took over, but you never asked him for help, you never surrendered your task to him because _you_ thought it would be a good idea to. Blaise gave up and the Dark Lord didn't find it amusing the honour of serving him directly was passed on to suit Blaise's needs."

"So where is he now, that lover of yours?"

"He's…confined to bed. The Dark Lord says he can't afford someone to walk him about all day, so he should just stay put where he's no trouble."

Draco shrugged and didn't see what was so bad. He'd prefer being confined to a nice comfortable and warm bed to being locked in the dark and damp cellar. He'd been in there before and that was just to get a bottle of Firewhiskey for his father, back when the cellar still had its original use.

"Sounds like he got off easy. You seem to have gotten worse punishment."

"You don't understand!" she yelled as she suddenly let go of his arm and turned to face him.

Her hollow eyes now burned with fire and tears. For just one moment, her face seemed to have regained its rosy complexion. But as soon as she lowered her face again, the fire was gone.

"You don't understand…Blaise only gets in the way now because he needs someone to guide him all the time. He can't see any more so he keeps bumping in to things and people."

"What's wrong with his eyes then?" Draco asked confused.

"He doesn't have any anymore," she spat darkly. "All because you had to go and disappear. You know, if you hadn't screwed up at that Mugglelovers' house, none of this would have happened. Then you wouldn't have been punished, and we wouldn't have been sent after you to correct it. Blaise would still have his eyes if it wasn't for you."

She roughly grabbed his arm again and dragged him down the stairs to the cellar. She gave him a push, causing him to stumble down the last few steps and he crashed into the cellar door. He looked up, expecting her to be in tears. But she had pulled out her wand now and was pointing it at him with fierce determination.

"I'm not going to let anything like this happen again. I won't let you ruin anyone else's life. So get in there and if you try to escape don't be surprised if I kill you myself so you can join that good-for-nothing aunt of yours. Get in."

He straightened up, making himself as tall and proud as he could. So much for sympathy. That little devil would get her comeuppance soon enough. Giving her one more cold stare, he opened the door behind him and walked through it.

He heard her mutter a spell to lock the door and once he had heard her footsteps move away, he allowed himself to lean against the door. This had not at all gone the way he had planned it. In his mind, he had stormed into that room over a thousand times already, brandishing a wand and cursing everyone in sight. Now he was back where he had started and things didn't look well for him.

"Perhaps I should have thought this through some more…"

* * *

She raised her shoulders and wrapped the collar of her cloak around her neck even tighter. It wasn't even that cold outside, but she still had shivers all over. Slowly she turned the corner and saw she had been right. It _was_ a door, and an unguarded one at that.

She raised her shoulders tensely, in anticipation of the horrible things that she could come across once she was inside. She took one more deep breath as she finally coaxed herself over the threshold. Once inside, she quickly pressed herself against the wall, trying to get a good look around.

There was no-one there. Hurrying through the corridor she tried to ignore that familiar feeling of unease she was growing used to more and more. It was fright, rising in her stomach, but there was no time for her to be giving in to things like that now. She had to hurry.

She cast a quick look over her shoulder before turning another corner. It could be all over if she didn't get there in time, she had to hurry up. Suddenly she stopped and pressed herself against the wall again. Had she imagined it, or had she heard footsteps…Was she being followed?

Anything was possible inside this house, she told herself. She couldn't let her guard down even for a moment. She held her breath and listened closely. The footsteps seemed a mere fantasy now, or they had gone away. But she was almost certain she was alone again.

After scraping all her feelings of bravery together, she tried to look around without being seen and found the corridors all empty.

'I imagined it,' she told herself.

If she was going to keep this up, she would never reach him in time. She had to stop being so paranoid because she'd drive herself up the wall otherwise. As calmly as she could she started to walk again and she cursed the loud echoes her heels were causing on these stone floors. Again, she tried to convince herself she was alone, that she was perfectly fine and that she knew exactly what she was doing.

'Merlin, I _hate_ improvising…'


	16. 15: Of Consentforms and Closed Wards

**Chapter fifteen: Of Consent Forms and Closed Wards**

Harry looked around, a wild expression on his face as he tried to figure out if he had everything he'd need with him, without letting his haste get the better of him. Ron tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Harry to pull on his travelling cloak over his hospital pyjamas.

"Let's get a move on. It's getting late."

He felt his resolve dwindle with every second and he was afraid that, if Harry took too long, he wouldn't want to go after Hermione after all. Harry didn't seem to realize this, far too busy frantically searching for his wand.

"Come on, then," he said grimly. "Let's go."

Relieved they were finally on the move, Ron followed Harry towards the entrance of the hospital. Wands drawn, they already had one foot outside the door when suddenly Harry was pulled back inside by a large man.

"Where d'you think you're going buddy," he said gruffly.

Harry stared at him incredulously. "I don't think that's any of your business-"

"You ain't got consent, 'ave you?" the man insisted. "Gotta 'ave consent."

Ron turned around and watched helplessly for a moment as Harry was forcibly pushed back inside. Coming to his senses, he ran inside again and started to pull at the large man's arm.

"Let go of him! He's Harry Potter!"

The man stopped and eyed Harry for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. Aggravated, Harry wrestled himself away from the man's grasp and straightened his clothes.

"I'll go ask for consent then, shall I?" he said angrily.

Without waiting for an answer, he strode off in the direction of the front desk. Ron followed, eyeing the big man nervously as he passed, and frowned.

"Harry," he whispered. "I'm not sure…I mean, if we wait too long…She did choose him over me…"

"Oh, not this again," Harry said brusquely. "We've been over this. You love her, she loves you. Now we're going to go and rescue her after I get that bloody consent form. Excuse me, miss?"

The medi-witch behind the counter turned around slowly, sizing him up with a bored expression. "…Yes?"

"I'd like consent to leave," he said through gritted teeth.

This was bloody stupid. Never before had a consent form stopped him from doing anything he wanted. And back then it had mostly been for silly things as getting into Hogsmeade. Now he was trying to save a person's life, his friend's life, and _now_ they stopped and questioned him?

The witch rolled her eyes and looked at her watch. It was the beginning of the nightshift. She hated the nightshift; you always got these nutters who thought they were cured.

"What's your name, then," she drawled.

"Harry Potter," he stated irritably.

"Really? Show us your scar then," she said, thinking of ten more people they had upstairs who thought they were Harry Potter too.

"Look, Harry. Never mind…I guess I was hasty."

"Shut up Ron," Harry hissed. "We're going to save Hermione. She's supposed to marry you, remember?"

With all the restraint he could muster, he brushed his hair away from his forehead and waited until the surprised gasp from the medi-witch came. Unfortunately, it didn't come. She leaned over her desk and looked at it with a scrutinising stare.

"How d'you do that, then," she asked. "Most of 'em just think they're him. They don't do the scar…"

"Look," he hissed. "Check for a file with my name, you'll see my Healer was Hermione Granger, I was placed in a room with Draco Malfoy who came in with amnesia. Now I want my bloody consent to go outside so I can rescue a friend of mine because she is in danger. The longer you wait, the more likely the chance she is dead. Do you understand!"

Clicking with her tongue, muttering something about being rude, she leaned back in her chair and finally decided to humour him. She reached for the file cabinet and, agonizingly slow, started to rifle through them in search of Harry's file.

In the mean time, Ron was walking up and down behind him, constantly changing his mind. Yes, of course he wanted her to be safe. But would it do any good to follow her? They only had ideas, no facts. On the other hand, of course he had to save her. But…would it help...would it matter...would it change anything? He could just be in the way…

Harry was now the one tapping his foot impatiently. "If she doesn't hurry up I'm going to hurt someone," he muttered.

Finally she witch reappeared and had a file in her hand. She placed it on the counter and opened it.

"I see here your Healer is Healer Granger…" she read.

"Yes, I know that. I just told you that."

"But she's not on duty right now. You'll have to wait till the morning so she can sign your consent. Only when your assigned Healer signs the form, you can leave."

Harry grunted. He could see where this was going. "I don't think you understand." he said, restraining himself as well as possible. "Hermione Granger _is_ the friend I have to help. _She_ is the one missing. I need to get out so I can go rescue _her_."

"But you'll have to wait till morning when she can sign the consent form," the witch droned on.

"But she's out there! Do you see that storm out there? She's in the middle of it! She needs our help or else she might not be able to come back in the morning to sign your bloody consent form at all!"

"Harry, perhaps-"

"Shut up, Ron!" he exploded. "You're expecting me to sit here and wait for my friend who is missing to come back and sign a form because I can't go out to save her without her permission. I think I have her bloody permission to go save her, thank you very much! She's my friend and you're expecting me to sit here and let her die! Don't you think she'd want me to go find her? You can't keep me locked in here while she could get hurt out there!"

"Harry, calm-" but before Ron could finish his sentence, he found himself sprawled on the floor.

His jaw was aching and slowly, as he saw Harry being jumped by the big man to the sound of the medi-witch's screaming, he realized Harry had punched him. Dumbfounded he watched as Harry was pulled to his feet with his arms tightly pinned behind his back. He heard Harry scream and curse as he tried to get away, but the big man didn't give way.

Rubbing his cheek absentmindedly, Ron approached the counter and looked at the medi-witch in silence for a few seconds. She stared back at him as if she was afraid he was going to explode in the same way. Finally Ron managed to get his voice to work again.

"Excuse me…Where…Where is he taking him?"

"It's the closed ward on fourth for him, of course. Poor buggers always find ways to escape round the night shift. Never ceases to scare me though…"

Ron's eyes swivelled to the board above her and read aloud. "Fourth floor: Spell damage; unliftable jinxes, incorrectly applied charms, etc…You can't be serious…"

He headed up the stairs quickly, following in the wake of the still wrestling Harry and the ever stoic security wizard. He took a few deep breaths before entering the ward. He had been here before and if he was right, they knew someone else on this ward.

He found Harry in the second bed to his right and approached him slowly. "…Are you okay?"

Harry grunted and twitched in his bed. "Fine. Sorry about the punch. I just- Urgh."

"Perhaps we can sneak out the back door," Ron suggested half-heartedly.

Harry suddenly stopped twitching and looked at him fiercely. "Sneak out the back door? In case you haven't noticed, I'm strapped to this bed! I can't get out and you don't even seem to want to, so don't get me started."

He gave his arms another set of desperate tugs, but he didn't have the strength to wrestle free. Ron, not knowing whether he should be offended or not, said nothing and slowly sank down on a chair.

A soft shuffling of feet made both boys look up to see a man with wavy blond hair edging their way slowly, while holding on to a decorative quill and a set of photographs.

"I say…You're new here, aren't you. Then you must want my autograph, of course. Everyone wants my autograph, you know."

Ron hid his face in his hands, trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on Harry's face. He was afraid that this might happen. Harry tried to open his mouth but no sound came out. He turned to face Ron, who could only shake his head silently.

That moment, the door to the ward opened with a bang and Ginny came storming in.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she said incredulously. "I got a message that something was wrong…I can't believe you! I turn my back for one second and you get yourself committed to Psych!"

"Hello young lady! Would you like an autograph too?"

She froze on the spot and stared at the man, opening and closing her mouth like a confused goldfish.

"Hello…Professor Lockhart…" she looked at Harry and then back at the man for a moment. "Well, you did get what you deserved," she hissed at Harry. "How can you get yourself into a situation like this? Throwing a scene at the front desk! What was the point in all that! Really, can't you just stay put for once?"

"Ginny…"

"Shut up, Ron. I'm talking to my husband," she hissed before turning her attention back to Harry. "Hermione worked really hard to keep it secret that you and Malfoy are here and they tell me you were shouting the news so loud the whole world could hear you! Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

"It's Hermione who I did it for," Harry said forcibly, trying not to crumble underneath her glare that so resembled the one her mother was famed for. "She's missing."

Immediately Ginny's expression softened. "What happened?"

"Well, it's my fault, really," Ron whispered. "We had this argument about her and Malfoy. And then I gave her an ultimatum, it was either me or him. And then…someone came in saying he had disappeared and she just ran out."

"She's lost her mind…" Ginny sighed. "She's actually lost her mind."

"Now she's out there somewhere and we wanted to go out to find her but the people downstairs wouldn't let me go," Harry said. "I need a consent form and it has to be signed by Hermione so I'm stuck."

"But _we_ can still go…" Ginny stated. "But not alone. Hermione hasn't had the time to think her actions through so she might be in real trouble, but so will we if we don't come up with a plan first. I want to talk to the Order about this before we do anything, especially now you're stuck in here, Harry."

He nodded. "That's probably the best idea. We think she may have gone to Malfoy Manor, but we don't have any facts."

"Right. Let's go, Ron."

Ginny stood up and waited for Ron to get to his feet, which he did slowly.

"Are you leaving? What about those autographs? I think I was quite famous, you know!" Lockhart insisted sadly.

Ignoring him, Ginny looked at Harry. "Stay put this time, okay?"

"Like I have any choice. Good luck."

She smiled and headed out the door, after her brother.

"I'm really good at joined-up writing."

"And get me out of here!"

* * *

"Come on, move it. They're waiting for you upstairs."

Draco slowly got to his feet. "They're not wasting any time either."

"Shut up. Your wise-guy remarks won't do you any good."

"So how does it feel, Nott. To be a real part of this group. Do you feel honoured? Content? After all, you've joined the big boys now. Did he Mark you yet?"

Theodore Nott glared at him. Without moving his wand away from Draco, he shook his sleeve to reveal his lower left arm. A dark tattoo of a skull presented itself to Draco, almost with glee.

"What did you do then, to please him enough? I'm sure you must've been punished for failing along with Blaise and Pansy," Draco pressed on, curious whether all of his old friends had suffered the same treatment. "Or weren't you part of my retrieval squad?"

"I served the Dark Lord in my own way."

"I heard a little birdie say you botched another job, though. Couldn't get your hands on Granger even when she was right in front of you, am I right?"

"I'm not the one ending up on that table upstairs, Draco," Nott snapped. "So if I were you I'd keep quiet. You have no reason to be so damned pleased with yourself and you know it. I knew you'd try to get on my nerves but it won't work."

"So what happens if something goes wrong tonight…" Draco continued, making his voice sound as casual as he could. "Will you be let off for good behaviour, or will Blaise's fate be yours too?"

He could see Nott stiffening as the name of his friend was mentioned. Blaise had been somewhat of a leader to all of them, apart from Draco of course. They had all looked up to him, just because he took charge where others waited and watched. For Blaise to be humiliated like that, helpless for the rest of his life, was a shame to all of them. It meant they had failed him, and a frail little boy like Nott would certainly feel guilty for that.

"Just move, Malfoy. You're not worth my time. It was your fault to begin with that Blaise ended up like this. You may not be able to ever atone for that, but your death sure as hell will relieve some of his pain. So just shut up and walk. You're about to join your dear old aunt on the other side, you should be pleased."

Before he could question that last remark, Draco felt a small pang of pain as Nott forced him towards the staircase with a flick of his wand. But he felt he already knew what'd happened without having to ask questions. Bellatrix had probably just gotten in the way. As he walked up the steps, he knew what was going to happen next. He had been in this situation before, only this time he hadn't been drugged to believe in friendship.

As he continued through the corridors on his way to the drawing room, he saw the flickering lights of fires warn him from underneath the doors he passed. It was exactly the same as last time, only this time he was escorted from the basement instead of his old bedroom.

Pausing only once to cast a final look out the window, he kept going. If he was going to die after all, he didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him despair. The only thing that bothered him was that he had expected to be rescued. After all, hadn't he and Granger been building up a bond? He had expected her to freak at finding his bed empty and, in all her Gryffindor valour, rush over to this place to save him.

Funny. He found himself blaming her for not risking her own life for his. That was a new thought to him. He hadn't counted on thinking he would have done the same for her…But it was too late for regrets now. After all, had he really expected the girl who had suffered daily from his behaviour in school to grow fond of him, fond enough to run into the middle of a Death Eater hideout?


	17. 16: The Ritual

**Chapter Sixteen: The Ritual**

She had reached the top of a staircase and, against her better judgment, took a moment to enjoy the view. This house was richly decorated. There were Persian carpets on the floor, several golden frames that surrounded paintings and a chandelier that consisted of the clearest crystal she had ever seen.

The paintings were empty, she was grateful for that. In a house like this, even the paintings could give away her presence. She walked on down the corridor, listening quietly at each door as she passed it. She had no clue where Malfoy's old bedroom was, but she supposed he would be complaining loud enough for her to hear.

As she was about to turn a corner, she heard soft voices muttering as a door opened and closed. Immediately she pressed herself against the wall of an indented doorway. As the voices passed her, she saw the familiar faces of Crabbe and Goyle. They were complaining about something so she listened closely. After all, they were the two people she had seen hanging around Malfoy the most.

"All he ever does is moan. He should shut up. It's not like he doesn't deserve this."

"We're not his babysitters. He shouldn't act so high and mighty. He had his chance, he blew it."

"We'd better be careful though. He's spiteful enough to do something to get us into trouble."

"Bitter git. I still say he deserved it."

Hermione held her breath. This was it! Malfoy _had_ to be in that room. She watched the two boys walk away and as soon as she convinced herself the coast was clear, she rushed around the corner and tried to open the door she had heard them closing.

What surprised her was that the door wasn't locked. If he was a prisoner, then his guards were lacking in holding skills. She turned the door handle and pushed the door open as quietly as she could manage.

The bedroom she had just entered was decorated in the same rich style as the rest of the house. It didn't seem to be anything like someone's prison. She was so busy looking at the surroundings that she didn't hear the footsteps coming from an adjacent room.

"Who's there?"

She gasped and turned around. But what she saw when she faced the man who had just walked in was so horrible that she had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't scream. His face was familiar and he still had a certain noble way of holding himself, but where his eyes once were she could now only see two black holes.

He was moving his arm in front of him clumsily, in search of anything to lean on. For a second she was frozen, but when she saw he was so close to the bedpost but would never find it this way, she rushed forward and took his hand.

"Pansy?"

"It's alright. I'll guide you," she said gently.

Taking a few steps forward she lead him to the bed, turned him around and tenderly pushed down on his shoulders so he would sit down.

"Who are you?" he asked. "I don't recognize your voice…"

"That doesn't matter. Are you…alright? What happened to you…"

"…You're not one of us."

Oh, god. Had he recognized her, she wondered. What would happen then? How could she have been so stupid to ask questions.

"What are you doing here? Tell me your name."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"You weren't looking for me," he stated. "No one would be looking for me. You should go downstairs to find what you want. Quickly."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Look at me," he said quietly, his arms listless by his side. "I'll never be useful again to anyone in my entire life. Let me be useful one last time. Go to the drawing room, two doors down from the library. Love is the key."

"…Thank you," she took his hand and squeezed it gratefully.

She looked back once before slipping out the door, but Blaise had turned his face away from her and was lying on his bed with his back towards the door. She wasn't sure but she thought she could see his shoulders shaking.

* * *

"You know what happens now, Draco. There is no point in resisting. Please, take your place."

Draco defiantly held his head high. "I didn't come here to give this another shot. I came here to take revenge."

"And what a fine job you have done so far. You allowed yourself to be captured and haven't put up a fight since. Somehow I feel that you used revenge as an excuse to come back here to fulfill your…debt."

Voldemort nodded his head at a few people behind Draco and a soft rumble of feet told him that others were leaving the room. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw the sagged shoulders of his father and the long blonde hair of his mother as both parents retreated out of the room.

"Why are you sending them away?" he asked Voldemort. "Isn't part of the punishment to make them watch as I die here?"

"That was the original intention, that's true. But since then I have come to realize there was a flaw. I made that mistake only once and it will not happen again. Their presence was wished for, but not necessary."

"And my friends?" Draco pushed on. "They needed to be punished too, correct?"

"You ask too many questions. They bore me. Your friends have been taken care of. I suppose their previous punishments will have to make do."

Once again, Voldemort waved his hand as a sign that Draco should give up and lie down on the table prepared for him. He already had his stone knife in his other hand and, judging from the cold looks from the remaining Death Eaters and their pointed wands, Draco had no other option than to comply.

'So this is where it ends for me. I guess Granger…' but he couldn't finish that thought. Expecting her to come to his rescue had been an obvious mistake. And he was surprised to find that he was actually hurt by her not showing up.

With a defiant look on his face, he moved forward towards the table and sat down on the surface. He turned so that his legs were resting on the table as well and with a deep breath, he laid down, his back finally touching the cold stone again. As soon as he touched the surface, the grip of an Imperius washed over him, making it impossible to even squirm beneath the knife.

His eyes were fixed on the blade Voldemort was holding and as he followed each movement, each jerk and flourish, his ears blocked out the sound of the soft mutterings that filled the room. He realized that Voldemort was saying the same words as the time before, but he couldn't distinguish a clear sound. It felt as if someone had given him a blow to the head as a dull but high pitched tone was the only sound he heard.

He felt his shirt being torn open by a second pair of hands, but he ignored them. He didn't look at their owner's face, afraid of what was coming next. The knife he had been staring at now came down dangerously close to his skin.

He hissed in anticipation as the blade finally made contact with his chest at exactly the same places it had done before. But at the very second he couldn't contain his scream anymore, there was a burst of sound and light as the door of the room slammed open, crashing loudly into the wall.

Before he realized what was going on, the darkened silhouette of a woman framed by the white light that came from behind her had appeared in the opening of the door.

He heard Voldemort scream in his shrilly voice to capture her, to hold her, while he continued his almost inaudible murmurings. Draco screamed again as the knife came into contact with his body once more. In the confusion, the Impirius had been lifted and Draco arched his back in pain.

"Get her out of here!" he heard a male voice order.

But the woman was wrestling fiercely to break away from the troll of a man holding her. For a second, Draco thought it was his mother, but as the light from the candles in the room finally illuminated her face, he could see Hermione's watery eyes stare straight at him.

"Get that Mudblood out of here!" Voldemort screeched, his eyes swiveling from his victim to Hermione.

Finally realizing what was going on, Draco tried to get up from the table. He was pushed back down forcefully but he still managed to remain leaning on his elbows and then a thought hit him.

She had actually come for him.

As he looked at her in a split-second that seemed to last for hours, he could see why her eyes were watery; she was crying. She was crying, not because her captor was hurting her, but because she saw other people hurting _him_.

He felt a circle of warm light surround him as the chanting continued. Something was happening, something that he couldn't remember from last time. Frightened, he look at Hermione again. But the man who was holding her was desperately trying to pull her out of the door while she fought to stay as hard as she could.

The light around him was growing hotter and hotter with every cut made into Draco's body and he could feel himself burning inside and out. He was dying, he knew.

'I'm dying…oh my god I'm dying.'

The pain was becoming unbearable and he knew that it would be over soon. Just not soon enough for him to stop feeling the continuing rise in temperature. A last horrifying, heartbreaking scream escaped his lips before his elbows gave way and he hit the table surface limply.

"No!" Hermione shrieked as she finally managed to tear away from the Death Eater's grasp.

Before anyone could stop her or before Voldemort could even raise his wand, she darted through the room and threw herself over Draco's motionless body, ignoring the burning pain the light caused. In that same instant, the light's intensity doubled and Hermione was blinded by its brightness and burning heat. She screamed out as all of it became too much for her and just as she felt herself on the edge of passing out, all of it disappeared.

There was no light, there was no heat. She looked around and there were no people, no Voldemort, no candles…She wasn't even in the same room anymore. The only thing that was still the same was that she was still lying on top of a limp Draco Malfoy.


	18. 17: Justice

**Chapter Seventeen: Justice**

Recovering from her confusion as quickly as possible, she realized that she had to start moving. She got to her feet, but Draco wasn't moving. With a worried glance she looked around. They were obviously still in the Malfoy Manor, because she recognized the rich décor. But she had no clue how they had gotten here and why. Focusing on Draco again, she felt for a pulse and examined his eyes. He was still alive, she realized with a sigh of relief, but he needed help.

She sat back down on her knees and caressed his hair from his face gently. Even though he had told her before how much he had suffered at the hands of his former friends, only now could she fully comprehend it. She pulled her wand from her pocket and conjured up some water in her hands so she could drip it on his face.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. If this had been a different situation she'd have thought he was awakening from a bad hangover. She stretched out her hand, waiting for him to take it so she could help him up.

"Come on. We have to go."

"What happened? Where are we…What's going on…"

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. The fact that she didn't know what had happened frightened her. One minute they had been in agony, the next they were here, wherever 'here' could be. "I think we're still in the building. Can you stand?"

He took her hand finally and got to his feet with difficulty. She took his arm and placed it around her shoulders so she could support him.

"Do you know where we are?" she asked him with an urgent tone of voice.

He looked around as he leaned on her. "…Yes…If we hurry we can leave through the kitchen. It's around the corner and the third door on the left."

With a look of confidence on her face, she started to move forwards as fast as she could with a limping man weighing her down. She didn't like this, she didn't like this at all. With a whisper, she conjured up her Patronus and let him lead the way around the corner. The little otter dashed through the corridor as if it was clearing the way for them.

Feeling strengthened by its presence, she dared to follow it around that corner. There was no one there. Thank Merlin. Perhaps this was their lucky moment for the day. After all that had happened so far, perhaps they would actually manage to make it out safe. When they reached the third door on the left, the otter looked up at her expectantly. She nodded and allowed it to vanish. Pushing Draco's arm off her, she leaned him against the wall and reached for her wand.

"I'm going to open the door. If it's safe, I'll come back out and get you. If I don't come back out…you have to go a different way. Will you promise me not to follow?"

He nodded, but found himself regretting having to rely on her. She was acting like a true Gryffindor; brave. And he couldn't even lift his own wand arm to help her.

Hermione tightened her grip on the wand and opened the door, wincing at the creaking noise it made. It was completely dark in there, the only thing she could see were the places where the moonlight from outside the window was reflected on the metal surfaces of the kitchen equipment. Wand at the ready, she pressed herself against the wall and started to edge her way in.

"Lumos," she whispered.

Blinded for a second, she ducked behind a counter, but when she could see again, she dared to stand up. There was no-one there. With a sigh she rushed to the door that led away from the building and peered outside to see if there were any guards waiting to jinx them the second they stepped out. But even here, security was lacking. There was no one blocking their way to freedom, but that meant there was no time to waste getting out. The last thing she wanted to do was give them time to rally because she was admiring the view.

Quickly she rushed back to the other door and opened it. Draco was still waiting for her and had moved closer to the door. She reached for his hand, beckoning him to come with her. But as she reached out to grab him, the figure of a woman stepped out from behind him, holding them both at the point of her wand.

"I never thought I'd see the day I finally got to wipe that smug look off your face," Pansy sneered. "It must be my lucky day because I get to kill you both at the same time. Saves me an extra trip."

She pushed Draco into Hermione, causing them to stumble backwards into the kitchen. Pansy followed them at a deliberately slow pace. The look on her face proved that she was loving every second and Hermione could almost see her taste her precious revenge. But she was going to take her time, having them cower a little, maybe add a slight hint of torture to their sentence.

Hermione bent down to help Draco up but didn't let her eyes wander away from Pansy. There was something about that girl that she hadn't seen before, something so intense that it burned. This was actual, pure and unadulterated hate.

"Don't look at me like that," Pansy spat. "Don't look at me like you have something to say. My ears don't have to listen to your Mudblood voice. Worthless little shit."

"Don't call her that," Draco managed to say. "Don't call her Mudblood."

Pansy cackled. "What? Standing up for her? I should have realized that you cared so much for Mudbloods when you managed to fuck up your mission!"

Her triumphant look faded into that same fire Hermione had already seen. Her eyes seemed to explode with its intensity.

"They should have just killed you then but they let you live, they felt mercy! And look how they ended up because of that mercy! He's blind, Draco, blind forever and it's your fault! You're the one who mutilated him with your lack of conviction and you got away with it! I'm not going to let you off the hook for doing this to him, for humiliating him, stomping him into the ground! I warned you before, didn't I? That I'd kill you myself if you tried to escape? Well I _am_ going to kill you and I'll enjoy it. But I think I'll kill her first. Consider it payback for blinding _my_ husband."

Hermione raised her head a little higher. "Draco is not the one who hurt Blaise. I saw him, upstairs. He needs you to help him, not to avenge him. If anyone deserves your hatred it's not Draco, it's Voldemort."

"I am a loyal servant. Blaise is too, but because Draco wasn't feeling it that day, my husband got the blame. The Dark Lord isn't the problem here, this traitor is."

"I'm glad that we're on different sides, Pansy," Hermione said with a disgusted look on her face. "Because if everyone on my side thought it was alright to blame innocents for the deeds of another then you'd be the first one to point a finger. What makes you think that it is normal or even right for your Lord to treat you this way? Yes, Draco made a mistake. But he already paid for that. It's Voldemort who hurt Blaise, probably just because he felt like it. I think that if justice on my side was as random as it is on yours, I'd probably be just as angry as you are right now. But you have a choice! You can choose to leave!"

Pansy gave her a blank look and roared in anger. "All I know is that it all began with Draco screwing up and I think it's time he felt the consequences. After all, we've all been taking it easy where you're concerned, haven't we. You got away with so many things over the years…When I think about it, it's even my obligation to acquaint you better with the ways of the world."

Draco sagged against the wall, still weak and dizzy. Hermione wrapped her fingers around her wand and flashed it in Pansy's direction. She had no desire to fight, but she flourished her wand anyway, knowing there was no way around it.

"Don't do it, Pansy. It won't work, it won't satisfy your anger. It can't give Blaise back his eyes," she tried threateningly, taking a few steps forwards, as if preparing to attack.

Pansy turned her eyes back to Hermione, a contemptuous look on her face. "Merlin, you're naïve. I think it'll satisfy me well enough to see both of you dead. And if you're so willing to die then I won't stop you. You Mudbloods always get in the way."

As she slashed her wand through the air at Hermione, for the second time that day everything slowed down to a crawl. Pansy mouthed a curse, Hermione dove away and Draco propelled himself away from the wall, aiming himself at Pansy. Just before Hermione landed, she heard a voice crying out and as she realized her wand had flown from her hand, she thought it was her own scream.

The second her body hit the ground, time sped up again and she frantically reached for her wand. Pointing it at the other two bodies on the ground as if it were a gun, she circled them. Draco and Pansy were struggling, but while Draco tried to pin her down, he was still too weak and Pansy pushed him off with a triumphant shriek. Quickly, Hermione rushed in and pressed the tip of her wand against Pansy's head after she had kicked her fallen wand away.

"Don't move," she hissed. "Draco, get up and look outside. Is anyone out there?"

Draco peered out the window and shook his head. "It's clear."

"Good. I want you to go outside and head straight towards the trees."

"But-"

"I'll follow you after I take care of her."

Draco hesitated, but being wandless and still feeling so tired, he did what she told him. Hermione waited till Draco had left before speaking to Pansy again.

"You had a choice. You should've thought for yourself. You followed all the rules and did everything you could to achieve what you believed in. You followed Voldemort, thinking he would praise you for it. But what happened? After listening to him, being a true follower, your husband gets mutilated and punished for following the rules. And because you are so brainwashed, you actually believe killing a friend will fix it."

"Oh, don't give me that moralistic 'you have a choice' crap, Granger," Pansy sneered. "Cheesy lines don't suit you. Either kill me or I will kill you. That is a promise."

"Killing really is the only option for people like you, isn't it. Perhaps it's time you yourself were better acquainted with the ways of the world," Hermione whispered in a low voice, pressing her wand against Pansy's head just a little bit harder.

Pansy held her head high. "So now you're going to kill me? Never figured you as a hypocrite, Granger."

"Now see who's naïve," Hermione hissed through gritted teeth. "Stupefy."

As Pansy's limp body fell to the ground sideways, Hermione dashed towards the door and headed into the cold night sky. She could see his dark silhouette in the distance and ran to him as fast as she could. He was resting against a tree trunk, eyeing her curiously.

"Let's hurry up," she urged him as she took his hand getting ready to Disapparate.

"Are you going to tell me what happened in there?"

She looked away. "Nothing special. She's not going to follow us. Don't worry, I didn't kill her. I stunned her. Perhaps she'll listen to my reason…"

To her surprise, Draco started to chuckle. She turned around and looked at him.

"What?"

"Well, she was right about one thing. You are naïve. I don't mean that in a bad way…I mean, you're brave and loyal and all that…but you're also a bit too trusting."

"It's not like a Slytherin can't change. I've seen it happen before," she said, giving him a meaningful glance.

"I know…but I have you to thank for it. You came to get me. You came to search and rescue me even though I'm me."

"Well, you're my friend now. I care about my friends."

With this said, she turned on the spot and vanished, taking Draco with her. When they landed in front of her house, her face lit up.

"Welcome home."

He looked at the house for a second and then looked back at her. They were still holding hands from Apparating, but she didn't seem to notice or mind. Hermione looked back at him over her shoulder, smiling encouragingly, finally relaxing her nerves.

Home.

She started to walk towards the house and pulled at his hand so he would follow her inside. But he wasn't moving with her. When she turned around to ask him why, he suddenly tugged at her hand, causing her to crash into him. He held her close to his body and then leaned in swiftly, pressing his lips down on hers.


	19. 18: The Key

**AN: It's my birthday today (I turned 22) so as a treat from me to you; the last-but-one chapter! After this, just one more to go guys! I want to thank everyone who reviewed my last chapter so enthusiastically, I really enjoy reading your opinions! So hopefully you'll enjoy this one too and I'll update the final chapter as soon as possible.**

**Chapter eighteen: The Key**

The sudden contact caught her off guard. Too confused to even register this action, it took her a whole minute before she pushed him away. Draco, who had been keeping his eyes closed so he could fully enjoy the moment, slowly opened them and licked his lips.

He grinned, feeling quite satisfied with himself. The look on Hermione's face, however, wasn't quite what he had expected.

"What was that?" she managed to say.

"What do you mean, you like me don't you?" he stated in a confident voice. "I mean, you must've figured it out. The spell Voldemort was using…You said yourself that its original intention was good. Voldemort used it for evil, to satisfy his hate. He turned it into its opposite use. And, well, the opposite of hate is love. That's the reason it went wrong last time; my parents were still in the room. He sent them away this time, but when you came in…You know…You came to find me, rescue me against the will of your fiancé, I mean, what am I supposed to think!"

"You're supposed to know the difference between friendship and love!" she exclaimed disgruntled, though unable to hide the blush of red that had washed over her face. "That I came to find you when Ron didn't want me to, doesn't mean I _love_ you. Merlin, is that really what you think?"

She stepped back and raised her fingers to her lips so as to ward him off. In the back of her mind she could hear Blaise's words whispering to her 'Love is the key'. But she also knew that, the second she had felt his lips, though it was a rather pleasant feeling, she had realised that this was definitely not even close to what she wanted.

Draco raised his eyebrow in a confused frown. "Well…I thought- You risked your life for me…"

She placed her hands on her hips and opened her mouth, searching for words. But before she could find the proper thing to say, two sets of running footsteps coming towards them made her spin around with her wand raised.

"Hermione! Thank Merlin you're okay," Ron sighed as he enclosed her in his arms. "You don't know how worried I was…"

Ginny came to a halt next to him, catching her breath. "You...have…some…explaining to do…" she huffed angrily.

"Let's go inside," Ron suggested quickly, eyeing Draco suspiciously.

"How did you know we were here?" Hermione asked him, still a bit fazed by this sudden reception.

"We had the Order cast a spell over the house so that we'd know if someone came near it. It took McGonagall two whole hours," he told her. "Listen, I want you to know…that I'm sorry for everything that I said. I shouldn't have put you in a position like that and…Merlin I was so worried."

She nodded vaguely. "…Yeah….I mean, of course…I mean… I'm just really confused, I need to clear my head…"

Ron nodded quietly and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Sure, come on. I'll make some tea."

He pressed his lips to her temple and squeezed her a little tighter. "I've missed you."

Once inside, they were greeted by a grim looking group. McGonagall was the first to walk over to Hermione and squeezed her shoulders swiftly but encouragingly. Remus followed quickly to hug her as Ginny and Ron seated themselves next to a shaken Molly Weasley. Draco remained in the opening of the door, not quite sure if he was welcome here.

Hermione was gently pushed down in a chair and given a mug of tea. Surprised to be met by such a welcome party, she looked around questioningly. "What's everyone doing here?" she asked.

Ron shook his head and wanted to talk, but Ginny beat him to it. "Once we found out you'd gone missing, we figured it was better for us to head to the Order instead of chasing you blindly. But first we broke into your locker and took everything we could find, that book and the file…"

"They thought it was best to wait and see what would happen. They placed a Warning Spell on the house and posted guards. We thought that perhaps the Death Eaters might attack the house again…"

"I guess they didn't," Hermione said. "Why would they have, they already had what they wanted." She looked at Draco, who was still waiting in the opening of the door. She beckoned him to come inside but he shook his head.

"I don't think they want me here."

"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall stated. "I would very much like to hear what happened."

"...Does it matter, now that it's done?" he asked. He didn't really feel like explaining it all over again.

"Draco was captured, Professor," Hermione said. "He was captured by the Death Eaters. Voldemort wanted to kill him. He thought he had found a way of gaining more power so he could face Harry. And to do so, he needed a sacrifice..."

"But we looked at those books," Ginny said. "They only had spells meant for good things..."

"He adapted the spell, made it more horrible so he could invoke evil powers instead of good ones. But somehow...it failed. Twice..."

She looked away, not daring to see how Draco would react to this.

"It failed because there was too much love," Draco stated, causing the entire room to sink into an icy silence.

Ron eyed him dangerously. "What do you mean, too much love?"

"Well, my parents were there the first time...He sent them away tonight, not wanting them to influence the ritual," Draco stated contented.

"So what about tonight?" Ron asked again, looking at Hermione and Draco.

"Granger rushed in at the last minute," he answered defiantly.

Hermione lowered her head as she rolled her eyes. He was giving everyone the wrong idea on purpose. Ron would understand that, right? But as she looked up, the darkened look in Ron's eyes made her doubt that.

"It's not what you think," she said. "He's making it sound all wrong."

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

"If I may..." McGonagall said slowly. "I think I can offer an explanation...Looking at those books and papers you had, I realised there was something odd. In the ritual Voldemort had prepared, there was absolutely no room for error. You see, the original rituals didn't allow for impure or evil thoughts. Even the slightest touch of dislike for someone in the room could ensure failure. So in Voldemort's ritual, a ritual completely the opposite, any emotion of affection, however small or insignificant, could ruin it. This could be what happened."

"So Dumbledore was always right. Love is the greatest weapon..." Ginny whispered with a smile. "Harry will be glad to hear that."

Ron breathed heavily through his nose, still not very convinced. Draco's smugness, however, seemed to have melted away ever so slightly at this, so he decided that, for now, he would try to restrain himself. After all, Hermione was finally back home and safe. He could worry about Malfoy later.

"This failing of the ritual could be what transported you away from the scene." McGonagall continued. "It is most likely the magic's reaction to the corruption of the ritual, the...affection, I mean. The magic couldn't complete what it was summoned for and had to go somewhere so it dissolved into transporting the subject of sacrifice."

"The only thing that bothers me now...I can't figure it out...Why would they want only you?" Remus asked. "They had you the first time but then you vanished. Why would Voldemort spend all this time and effort on retrieving you? Why didn't he use someone else?"

"In the original spell the victim was always something pure," Hermione said slowly. "So here the victim had to be someone...evil..." she said the last word quietly. It felt wrong to call Draco evil now, after what they had just been through. And with the feeling of his lips brushing against hers still present in her mind, she felt a light blush creep to her face. It actually hadn't been all that unpleasant, she realised guiltily.

"But he had enough Death Eaters at hand, every single one of them evil up to a certain degree. He could have used any of them if he just needed someone evil," Remus mused.

"Harry and I discussed that point as well," McGonagall said. "Harry thought it might have been because of an incident in his sixth year at Hogwarts. He remembered quite vividly having injured Mr. Malfoy with a spell, actually drawing blood."

"That could make sense!" Hermione said with big eyes. "In the good spell, the victim was pure and untouched, unharmed. But Draco was harmed by Harry, defiled, the exact person against whom the spell was meant to be used! Draco, you nearly died from that spell, didn't you? That would explain why it needed to be you. Harry never before actually drew this much blood in fights or duals. That would enhance the very essence of the ritual."

"But he's not the only one Harry's ever harmed," Ron remarked. "I remember something about Bellatrix Lestrange."

Draco averted his eyes. "My aunt...Bellatrix is dead. I figured as much when I didn't see her in the room with everybody else. The first time I vanished Voldemort was in such a rage that he killed the only one left in the room, my aunt. I heard someone mention it when they had me in the cellar...You can imagine how angry he must've been when he realised he'd killed the only other possibility to perform his ritual."

"Oh..." Hermione whispered, too shocked to say anything else.

"But that means they still need him. If the ritual is to work, only he can be used," Ginny said, as she practically jumped to attention. "They'll be coming back for him."

Draco felt his satisfied smile fade. If he was the only possible person to be used in the ritual, then they would always come back for him. Voldemort wasn't the kind of person to give up trying to gain something just because something went wrong once or twice. He looked at the other people in the room and could feel them thinking of reasons to get rid of him, to keep themselves out of harm's way.

"Well, I suppose that's my cue," he said bravely.

Hermione turned around. "What do you mean?"

"I need to get out of here, don't I," he said. "I need to find a good hiding place, far away from you and everyone else."

"You can't go out there all on your own!" She pointed out the window violently. "You'll be a sitting duck!"

"I'll be a sitting duck here too," he said in a low voice.

"But we can look after you..."

"Hermione..." Ron placed his hand on her shoulder as if trying to control her. "If he wants to go then we should let him."

"But he doesn't want to go, does he?" she said confidently as she turned back to face Draco. "Listen, at least stay the night. We can figure something out in the morning and in the mean time we'll be safe enough with the protective spells around this house. Please give me the chance to think of something."

Draco hung his head but smiled. "Okay...I'll stay the night."

McGonagall stood up and Remus, Ginny and Molly followed her quickly. "We all ought to be getting back home. I'll be in touch tomorrow. Perhaps we can think of a suitable solution."

Hermione nodded vaguely.

"I'll let you out," Ron muttered, trying to hide his annoyance.

As the others quietly headed into the corridor, Hermione avoided looking at the only other person left in the room. She heard him chuckle softly behind her as he walked over to her. He placed his hand on her lower back and bent forward so his mouth was right next to her ear.

"I think you liked that kiss better than you want to admit," he whispered smugly.

"Stop it."

He grinned again. "Deny it if you want to, but you enjoyed it."

And without giving her the chance to respond, he brushed past her and walked into the hallway. She stayed behind, confused and a feeling little lost. She raised her fingers to her lips and tried not to think about that kiss again. After all, ignoring the fact that it was wrong and as far away from what she wanted as possible, the kiss had been close to phenomenal. He was a good kisser but he was far too aware of it himself and it enabled him to draw the wrong conclusions. She couldn't stand his smugness. Determined to set him straight, she ran after him.

She found him halfway up the stairs and grabbed his wrist. "Listen you, you don't get to talk to me like that just so you can walk away. If you've got something to say, you should be prepared to face the reaction."

He smirked. "I'll face any reaction you've got for me, as soon as you've made up your mind. But perhaps you need me to make it up for you."

Again he pressed his body up against her, only this time he had her trapped with her back against a wall. Before she could reach for her wand to hex him, he crashed his lips against hers. Furious that he dared to try this twice in one day, she bit down on his lip hard and enjoyed the angry and incredulous look on his face.

"Listen to me. I like you as a _friend_. When I came after you it was because I acted on my beliefs of what is right, it wasn't because of love. Please, don't make me regret my actions. You heard McGonagall, any feeling of affection, _however small or insignificant_ would have done the trick. Let that be enough for you."

Draco looked away from her, surprised by his own inability to face her calm sincerity after what he had done. The taste of blood in his mouth made him feel unexpectedly guilty and he could hardly blame Hermione for biting him. Without saying a word, he continued to walk up the stairs in search of the bathroom. Hermione leaned against the wall until she was certain he had closed the door, and let out a deep sigh.

Trotting back downstairs slowly, she found Ron waiting for her at the front door. He looked at her with an odd look in his eyes.

"You know..." he said, "when you and him came into this house together I could tell, just like I thought back in the Hospital, that something had happened between you two, no matter how much you denied it."

"Ron," she sighed. "Why can't you just believe me when-"

"Please, let me finish. I could see something had happened. His smug look, your nerves, the ritual...But I should have listened to you and believed you and I'm sorry that I doubted your word."

Hermione looked at him, feeling speechless. "What brought this on?"

His face turned red and he looked away. "...I heard you talking to him just now..."

She took a deep breath. "So it took you overhearing me to make you believe me. Why couldn't you accept my answers when I gave them to you directly?"

"Hermione...You're a beautiful woman, successful, caring and good at everything you do. I'd be a fool if I thought I was the only one who sees these things. I love you, but I'm also, sometimes, maybe a little jealous. I know I can be difficult at times...and then you were so engrossed in taking care of Malfoy that I was afraid you..."

"So you thought it was a good idea to hold me back by being controlling, angry and possessive," she stated. "Did it ever occur to you that this could be driving me away? I love you too, Ron, but it's hard to like you when you behave like that and you really hurt my feelings. And more than once, too."

"I know..." he said, his voice now barely anything more than a whisper. "And I've been ranting at myself ever since you left. I'm really sorry and I hope you can forgive me..."

She hung her head. "Like I said, Ron. I love you. I still do. But I need you to trust me. If you can do that, then I can forgive you."

He nodded fervently and hugged her to him. "Yes, I can. I will. I do, of course I do. I've just missed you so much. I was scared I'd never see you again. I am just so glad to have you back here. Safe."

"I'm glad to be back too," she smiled and kissed his cheek. "Which reminds me...Does this mean that our wedding is back on?"

He laughed and pecked her forehead. "It is as far as I'm concerned."

"Good. It'd be a shame to waste that dress."

"True. And you know what, I think I may have an idea to help Malfoy."


	20. 19: Of Couds and Light

**AN: Well guys, this is it: the "season finale" if you will. I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review this, I really liked to hear your opinions. And a special thanks goes out to two close friends of mine who endured all my nagging whenever I'd come down with another round of writer-block and who helped me finish and clean up this story with their input and comments; Rianne and Lucero. Thanks girls! And now, you'll hopefully enjoy this final chapter!**

**Chapter nineteen: Of Clouds and Light **

She looked at herself in the mirror, nervously trying to make her hair do what she wanted it to. It was far too bushy even though she had charmed it flat every half hour so far today. Ginny chuckled and looked over her shoulder into the mirror as well.

"Well at least _I_ look decent today. I like your choice of colour. This dark blue is very elegant. And it suits Luna and me well," she mused. "Don't worry. You look perfectly lovely. If every man in the room isn't jealous of Ron today, then something is terribly wrong with the fabric of reality."

She ran her fingers through Hermione's hair, combing out a last knot. Hermione however was still not convinced. "It's just...I'm nervous. What if something goes wrong?"

"What could go wrong? Mum and me arranged everything, Ron was here first thing in the morning double-checking everything that could be checked, your dress fits, your make-up looks fabulous and so does your hair, so stop messing with it."

"But what about the other things," Hermione said doubtfully. "What about the Aurors, the magical boundaries, the safety spells..."

Ginny stopped smiling for one second. "There's a man from the Ministry downstairs, talking to mum. Tonks is taking charge of the safety measures today and there are at least two Aurors at every entrance, not to mention that half the people on your guest list are Aurors."

Hermione bit her lip and moved so she could look out the window. The storm that had been raging the last few days had quieted down, but she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with wedding jitters as she looked at the dark and looming clouds.

"It's just...that he's still out there. Voldemort, I mean. Even on a day like this, he's still out there. Not only that, he's in everyone's minds. Not a single person here can forget that, least of all me."

Ginny sighed and moved closer to Hermione. "Hermione, I know it's hard, but try to let that go just for today. You ought to be worrying about caterers, cakes, the reception and guest lists. You need to be asking if your bouquet has arrived, not whether Death Eater protection has been set up. You're allowed one worriless day of happiness after everything you've been through."

"I know that, but I can't help thinking that, even if today goes smoothly and without worries, _after_ today it will all go back to normal, all back to looking over my shoulder and running when I hear footsteps I don't recognise. It's a good thing that we thwarted Voldemort again, but think about how angry he's going to be, how much viciousness he's going to put into revenging himself on me or you guys."

"Naturally he's going to be angry and of course he's going to look for revenge. But we've handled him before and we can do it again if he attacks. But he won't today, not here and not now. Besides, after today you will never have to face him alone. Remember, Ron _will_ be there, you know. I can hardly imagine him leaving your side once he finally gets that ring on your finger. He'll stick to you like gum to the bottom of your shoe."

Hermione finally cracked a smile and looked at Ginny gratefully.

"Speaking of Ron..." Ginny continued. "How about you put on that necklace he gave you before you insult the groom on his wedding day."

Hermione groaned and hid her face in her hands. "The necklace! I forgot to pack it, it's still at home–"

"It's right here. Ron handed it to me just now."

Hermione reached for the box in Ginny's hands and opened it, letting her fingers slide across the smooth and cold surface of silver, circling the gems carefully. She lifted it to her neck and wrestled with the clasp for a second or two, but once the necklace touched her skin, she felt calm en sure.

She reached for the mug of tea Molly had left behind and took a small sip. It'd gone cold already but it was better than drinking champagne or wine this early on in the day. Sighing heavily, and trying unsuccessfully to resign herself to that fact that she wasn't allowed to help, she got to her feet again and wandered through the room. She hated being in a position like this. Everyone else had something to do and she was only allowed to sit and wait. She had to calm her nerves down, she knew. But her worries wouldn't listen to reason, it seemed, so in the back of her mind she kept seeing images of Death Eaters invading the ceremony.

She opened the door quietly and peeked out. She could hear Molly somewhere in the building talking very sternly to a timid little man, probably the Ministry man Ginny had mentioned. Luna had disappeared right after breakfast and Ron was probably in some other backroom getting his proper robes on.

Ginny softly grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her back inside. "You're not going anywhere. You'll spoil the surprise! No-one is supposed to see you."

"But I feel so helpless like this. There is so much that needs to be taken care of and I'm just sitting here doing nothing while I could make myself useful. I'm good at protective spells."

"You've had enough stress lately, let others take care of things for once. I mean, what with everything concerning Malfoy, the ritual, Ron's jealousy, the spell yesterday...You never told me how that worked out, by the way."

"It was alright. McGonagall was the one to cast it in the end. She thought it was best if someone experienced with it had a hand in the ceremony. At least he's safe now. No one can harm him as long as I keep my mouth shut. To think it was Ron's idea..."

"Well," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders, "sometimes he does have good plans. But a Fidelius Charm isn't something you cast every day. I think it's a sign of just how much he trusts you to let you be Malfoy's Secret Keeper."

"He didn't have much choice," Hermione said dryly, but with a smile on her face. "I don't think anyone else would have jumped up at the opportunity. And even if they had, I could hardly ask someone else to do it. I started it so I should also finish it."

Someone knocked on the door and a male voice asked "Are you ladies decent in there?"

Ginny opened the door to reveal an empty doorway. "Ha ha, George," she said mockingly as she looked around, trying to spot her brother.

But it wasn't George who popped into vision seconds later. "Sorry, had to use a Disillusionment Charm to get here," Draco mumbled through a layer of fabric as he tried to take off his cloak.

Immediately Hermione's almost cheerful face sank into a sea of worried frowns again. "What's happened? Are you okay?" she asked nervously.

Draco shook his head as he pocketed his new wand. "Some faith you have in me. I can actually take some care of myself. Thought I'd come and congratulate the blushing bride before she became a wife."

Like a punctured balloon, Hermione released her breath with a hiss and sank into a chair. She had to stop reacting like this to everything.

"It's nice to see you again," Hermione breathed, slowly regaining her sense of humour. "Especially because I haven't seen you since last night which must, of course, feel like years to you now that you're in solitary confinement. How do you like your flat?"

"It's not bad," he conceded. "I still have to get used to the limited room and I have to remember to wear a disguise when I go outside. But there are enough Muggles out there I can steal hairs from for some Polyjuice, so I'll be alright. Just as long as I don't have my dirty dishes dancing their merry way out of my kitchen window, I should be fine. I will just have to get used to living more like a Muggle."

"It's only because we want you to be safe. McGonagall thought it was best for you not to use magic too often. But indoors should be fine as long as it's household magic."

He nodded silently and his content smile faded slowly into a more serious frown. He walked over to her and took her hands in his. "I haven't really thanked you properly for everything you have done for me. You took care of me when I came into the hospital and treated me like you would anyone else, which I can imagine must've been hard on you. Then you found out what happened to me and you even came to my rescue. And now you'll keep my secret with you forever. I don't like accepting help, but I suppose that I wouldn't have made it without yours. So thank you."

He reached into his robes and handed her a velvet pouch. She felt speechless as the weight was dropped into her hands.

"Draco...I can't accept this...I was only doing my job-"

"You were being a Gryffindor, that's something different entirely. Consider it a wedding present for you and the Weasel- for you and Ron. Take him on holiday or something. Merlin knows you've caused him enough worry and stress lately. Of course...if you want to change your mind you can still ditch him and come with me and we'll spend this money together," he tried with a grin, lifting the pouch back up from her hand a few inches.

"Draco...We've talked about this..."

He smiled, something she felt looked highly uncharacteristic on his face. But the fact that she realised he was only teasing her lifted her spirits immensely.

"So, accept the money and go on holiday. You've earned it."

"I suppose..."

"Well then," he said heartily, turning away from Hermione and pulling his face back into a more serious expression. "Now, if I want to mingle among the other guests before the ceremony starts I'd better take my 'medicine'. Anyone got a cup I can borrow?"

Hermione quickly cast a Scorgify on her mug of cold tea and handed it to him, as he unscrewed the top of a little vial filled with a greenish mud-like substance. He took a hair from a matchbox from his pocket and dropped it in the cup with the potion. Apparently this particular Muggle had a disgusting aftertaste, because he had to press his hand against his mouth to stop himself from throwing up over the hem of Ginny's dress.

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked away as he shrank in his robes in the middle of the room, turning into an unfortunately spotty-faced teenager with a sunburnt nose.

"Good luck ladies, I'll find my way to the hall myself."

"Wait, I'll join you. I'm looking for Harry and he's probably downstairs with my mother," Ginny said hurriedly as she turned to Hermione. "Are you sure you'll be okay on your own for a few minutes?"

She nodded and waved them away. "Go on, go organise something. I'll just sit here biting my nails until you give me something to do."

She realised full well that Ginny followed Draco because she still had some doubts about him, but she could do with a few moments of solitude. As the door closed quietly behind them, Hermione turned back to the mirror and admired how the necklace completed the picture.

She had never been one of those girls who dreamed of a fairytale wedding, or of a prince charming. A white picket fence had never even crossed her mind. But now that she was about to step into a life which included them all, though perhaps in different shapes than the books described, she realised that she was actually looking forward to all of them.

She looked out the window again and the dark clouds were still there. But, she supposed somewhat more at ease, there would always be dark clouds on the horizon. They still had a long way to go before they'd win this war but in the mean time she was entitled to her happiness. This thought surprised her, but just this once she'd let it slide. She'd try and give herself over to this new way of thinking because, after all, it was her wedding day.

With one final look in the mirror, now content with the image that greeted her back, she decided to take at least some control of this day. She grabbed her bouquet from the vase near the door and marched out as well as she could with a few feat of veil tailing her.

Trying not to let her dress make too much noise as she walked, she made her way down the stairs, hurriedly going past the door from where she could hear Ron's voice complaining about the tightness of his bowtie, and found herself in front of two huge oak doors blocking her way into the hallway ahead.

Ginny, who was talking to Harry a small way away, started and sprinted over to her. "Do you _want_ Ron to see you?" she asked as she pulled Hermione into a small side chamber. Over her shoulder, Hermione could see Harry giving her a thumbs-up, acknowledging that she looked beautiful, before Ginny almost body-slammed her against the wall of the small room.

"I know you don't like sitting idle," Ginny panted, taking the bouquet out of her hands so she could rearrange some of the shaken petals. "But you told mum and me we could organise everything. So _let_ us organise and stay out of sight till at least Ron has passed into the Hall. I was just about to come and get you, you know."

Outside the room, Hermione could hear Harry greeting his best friend in a louder voice that usual, an obvious sign to the girls to stay inside. They waited quietly until the two of them had moved into the hall were the guests were and then emerged, looking slightly dishevelled.

Hermione ran one more hand through her hair and fidgeted with her dress as Ginny did the same. The door behind them opened and Luna came in, with that same dreamy expression on her face as always.

"I suppose it's nearly time then," Hermione said, her voice somewhat more quiet than usual.

"Well, everyone is inside. Ron's probably in place right now so I guess it won't be long."

The two closed doors in front of her seemed to grow with every second that went by, waiting for the beginning. Ginny squeezed her hand encouragingly and smiled.

"You've faced Death Eaters and Dark Lords, so you can face my brother at the end of this hall."

Hermione laughed now. "I know I can. It's your mother I'm not sure I can face. She keeps bursting into tears every time she sees me. And she can't stop pinching my cheeks."

"And you're not even a blood relative," Ginny grinned darkly. "Just imagine how she's been treating Ron all day. But don't worry, she can't rush out of her seat now anyway."

Through the heavy wooden doors they heard the soft muffled sound of music striking up.

"I think that's our cue," Ginny whispered.

Hermione nervously tried to flatten her bodice once more and straightened the skirt of her dress repeatedly. Ginny tapped her fingers against her hands, causing her to stop.

"Take the flowers and take a deep breath…" she instructed, "and follow us in ten seconds. Nothing's _really_ going to change, you know. _You _won't change because of this."

Hermione nodded silently, gripping her bouquet as if it were a lifejacket. Ginny nudged Luna softly, breaking her trancelike humming and together, the two girls opened the doors and walked through them.

Hermione was momentarily blinded by the white light that greeted her and she feverishly counted back from ten as she kept her eyes locked on Ginny's and Luna's receding backs. They almost seemed to vanish into the light that flooded the hall. She cast one more nervous glance over her shoulder. But she trusted that, at least today, she would be perfectly safe.

As she reached zero, she straightened her back and started to walk forwards, passing the benches with guests slowly but confidently. Ahead, she could see Ron waiting with a smile on his face. The last weight of the day now finally lifting from her shoulders, she smiled back and continued on into the light.

**

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The end**

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Thanks for reading!


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